Make or Break Me
by cruiz107
Summary: Bella, homeless and in need, collides into a man that can't be bothered with her. Is he the one who's going to pick her up or leave her in despair? WARNING: SOME SCENES MAY BE TOO GRAPHIC FOR SOME! READ W/ CAUTION.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: New story…IMPORTANT AN ON THE BOTTOM.**

**All things Twilight belong to SM.**

I could hear the wind howling outside the strange car. When we had past the bank, the huge clock on top of the building flashed a temperature reading of seventeen degrees. If I wasn't afraid of literally freezing to death I wouldn't be sitting in this car with someone I met not ten minutes before.

We pulled into an all too familiar alleyway that was hidden in a crack-cocaine fueled neighborhood. I hated what this neighborhood represented in my personal life – failure.

When the man finally put the car into park, far enough into the alleyway to not be seen by other drivers or pedestrians, I got a good look at him. He was definitely a blue-collared worker. He certainly wasn't the most horrible looking man I had ever been with, but he had probably seen better days. His hairline was receding and a small beer belly was growing. He was also desperately in need of a good shave as he didn't look good with a five o'clock shadow. There was dirt underneath his fingernails and grease stains on his hands.

While his clothes didn't look particularly expensive, they looked sturdy, surely defending him against the cold. I always felt bad when I looked at these men - assessing them in my mind. I wasn't anyone to judge. My hair was matted with dirt and full of knots. My clothes were stained with mud, grass, and even spots of blood. My shoes even talked back to me. My ribs were more than visible and I sported scars and bruises throughout my body.

"You ready?" the stranger asked, causing my eyes to shift from his warm looking coat to his eyes. Without waiting for my response, he began fumbling with his belt buckle. I stopped him before he lowered the zipper on his slacks.

"Wait." I put my hand up to stop him. "I want the money first." He rolled his eyes but took his wallet out anyway. He handed me a twenty that I quickly folded up and placed in my sock. "Alright."

The stranger continued to lower his zipper and drag both his boxers and slacks to his knees at the same time. Thankfully, he was already hard and the deed would go by quicker.

I took a deep breath and mentally prepared myself to service yet another nameless man. I licked my lips to make it easier to take him in. I lowered myself and took him in my mouth. Luckily, he wasn't very big and gagging would probably be nonexistent.

I grabbed the base of his cock, making it easier on myself to keep his dick steady while I went up and down. I started out slow, having to get used to it in my mouth. Eventually, I picked up my pace, already wanting this to be over. The speed must have spurred him on. He began squirming in his seat, jerking his leg every so often. The stranger placed his hands in my hair, something that I always hated, and started guiding my head up and down, setting the pace that he desired. Another four minutes later, he was showing signs that he was almost finished. I could feel his thighs tense up and he slowed the bopping pace of my head. As he came in my mouth, he held my head down, not allowing any kind of movement and making it hard for me to control my breathing. I let his load fill my mouth, but refused to swallow it. As soon as he released the hold on my head, I quickly opened the door and spit out everything I collected.

It was something I was used to already – I didn't even taste in anymore. I would love to say that I fantasized I was with some famous Hollywood actor, giving him the best blow job he's ever had, but that wasn't the case. The moment I had someone's shaft, or on occasion some chick's twat, in my mouth I was like a robot. I just did what I knew they liked and did it until they came. I did it to survive, it was my only reason. Was I a whore? I guess, but if it's what I had to do to survive, then it's what I was going to do.

I closed the door to tighten my shabby coat before I left the warmth of the car. It wouldn't matter how close I hugged my tattered coat to me, it would do nothing to protect me from the dangerous cold.

I guess I was bracing myself for the cold longer than I thought because the man I just sucked off groaned next to me.

"What the hell are you still doing sitting in my car? My wife is waiting for me, I gotta get home."

If I was someone else, I might have been surprised that he sought out my services while he had a wife at home, but I heard it many times before. I got out of the car before the stranger could become angry. I had my fair share of beating after "pleasuring" customers. I learned how to handle them – to not show any pain, as it sometimes spurred them on.

I hated this part of my life, more than shop lifting, begging, garbage picking, and pick pocketing. However, this was something that provided both money and warmth at the same time. The twenty dollars that I just earned bought me a room for the night. I had to do it tonight. All the shelters were at full capacity and my only other option would be the alley that I was currently walking out of.

Fortunately for me, the motel that rented rooms by the hour was down the block. Since I knew the guy – fucked him for a room when I was desperate and broke – he would cut me a break and let me have the room all night for twenty bucks.

I walked into the disheveled lobby and up to the bulletproof glass that separated me from James.

"I got twenty bucks," I told him, not bothering with any formal greeting.

He smiled a sly grin that I've grown to hate; I knew what he was thinking. "Wouldn't you rather save that money?" He licked his lips and looked as if he was trying to see through my shredded coat and clothes.

"Not tonight. I'm tired and cold. I just want some sleep." He would be disappointed, but physically and mentally I was exhausted. I probably wouldn't even shower tonight. He tossed me a room key then turned to ignore me, watching whatever was playing on the scrambled, black and white television.

Looking at the room key, I saw that I was staying in room seven tonight. I knew this motel like the back of my hand so I found the room quickly. I unlocked the door, throwing the key on the bed and headed to the bathroom.

I hated looking in the mirror, but I always did it anyway. The girl staring back at me was someone I hadn't recognized at first but came to know her very well. My cheek was now a yellowish color from a bruise that was now fading. My neck had claw marks on both sides – marks that I knew would become infected - if they weren't already. My eyes were hollow and lifeless, my hair was thin and falling out.

I could only take my reflection for so long before I felt the need to throw up. I wasn't always like this; at one point I was actually doing very well for myself. Once upon a time, I was a college student, only a year from graduating. I would have even considered myself pretty. Once upon a time I was happy.

Turning from my reflection and memory that were openly mocking me now, I reached out for the travel toothbrush and toothpaste that was always supplied. It was the only amenity that this shitty place provided.

I brushed my teeth quickly and scrubbed my tongue until it felt raw and tasted of blood. It was the only way to ensure that I was totally rid of my night activity. I rinsed my mouth and spit, let clean water wash the cheap, plastic toothbrush, and put it safely in my pocket along with the toothpaste.

I removed my coat and rested it on the chair that was placed near the door. I took my shoes off and put them under the bed. Hopefully, tomorrow I could say bye to both of these items. Every first Sunday of the month, St. Mark's Church gave away clothes that they collected from the parishioners. It was actually the only way I received "new" clothes. I had no business in that area, except to collect whatever I needed and leave. Not only was it across town, but it was the good part of town. The half hour or so that I was there, the neighborhood people would look at me, and the rest of us who needed the assistance, as if we were lepers and our homelessness was contagious.

I threw myself under the rough, stiff duvet; letting the little warmth they provided envelope me. It was only just after eight at night but it could have been two in the morning with how tired I felt. Plus, I had to get up early if I wanted to get to the church in time to be there when the noon mass let out. It was after that service when donated item were handed out. I set the wind up alarm clock for seven, giving me enough time to walk the five miles to the church.

I fell into a dreamless sleep, as usual. I couldn't even remember the last time I dreamt. Nightmares came easily, but dreams were something that evaded me.

I woke the next morning to the annoying bell like sound coming from the clock next to me. I slapped my hand down on it, effectively silencing the offending object. Even though I slept about eleven hours, I always woke up feeling like I hadn't slept enough. It was never enough.

Slowly, I got out of bed and walked over to the bathroom, turning on the hot water that was never very hot at all. Stripping out of my grimy clothes, I stepped into the shower and stood under the spray, hoping it would wake me up and wash away the previous day. When I felt that I was standing there too long, I scrubbed my body and hair with the tiny bar of packaged soap that was left on the soap dish in the tub. I washed my hair as best I could without shampoo or conditioner. I felt somewhat satisfied when I saw the water that washed my hair turn brown and swirl down the drain.

After I dried myself, I redressed in the clothes that I'd worn for the past month. Brushing my hair wasn't an option, so I ran my fingers through it as best I could. It was rough, feeling like I had dreadlocks, and I grimaced at the sorry knot that sat at the nape of my neck.

I grabbed the key that got knocked off the bed sometime during the night and walked out the door. Walking into the lobby, I tossed the key to James who was preparing to leave from his shift, and didn't bother with a goodbye.

I tightened the coat close to my body, hoping to fight off some of the cold. It wasn't snowing, but when I looked up to the sky, the clouds held that grayish color that meant snow and not rain. I had miles to walk and I silently prayed that whatever snow was going to fall fell well after I had my new clothes.

With about one mile left until I reached the church, I spotted a five dollar bill. It was well hidden, and abandoned, behind the back tire of a parked car. I looked around me, hoping that no one was watching, even though no one had any interest in looking at a homeless girl. Deftly, I swooped up the bill and continued in the direction of the church, very quickly this time.

I must have been walking faster than I realized because when I arrived at the church, mass had yet to be let out. Because I didn't know what time it was, I had no idea how long I had to wait. As I stood in front of the closed doors of the church, I spotted the small deli across the street. I never had any money to venture in there, so I never paid attention to it. I began shuffling my feet where I stood, deciding if I should go in or not. I hadn't had coffee in so long. In fact, I couldn't even remember the last time I did have it. My wind burnt face and the thought of coffee on my tongue eventually helped me decide. I ran across to the deli and ordered a small coffee - light and sweet. I was only allowed to take one glorious sip, before I caught a crowd forming across the street.

Anxious to be one of the first people in line for new clothes, I dashed across the street. In the mist of making a beeline toward the area that was designated to form a waiting line, I bumped into something hard, spilling my hot coffee in the process.

"Aggghhh," the man yelled after my coffee splashed his chest, burning him. His white, button down, neatly pressed shirt had a huge brown stain right on the center of it. The excess coffee dripped off and splashed unto his expensive looking black shoes.

I was absolutely mortified when I looked to see the man's face. Angry didn't do him justice. I had seen this man come out of church services many times. He was absolutely breathtaking. I had never gotten close enough to see any specifics, but his hair color had an unusual brownish-red thing going on that seemed like it was a styled disarray. Though, at a closer look, it didn't seem styled at all. His eyes had an earthy-green color.

What made the matter worse, though, was that I think knew this man's mother…kind of. The lady that I believed to be his mother was the same lady that ran and supervised the clothing drive. She was there every time I went get a new "wardrobe". She was a nice lady, but I had no idea about her son.

"Seriously, do you have any idea how much this shirt cost?" he whispered-yelled while peeling the shirt away from his chest and shifting his eyes to those around us, not wanting to make a scene.

I found myself talking at the same volume and looking to those around us, too. Not for the same reason, though. I hated being around at lot of people for a long period of time. It wasn't unusual for them to point and make faces or whisper loudly enough so I can hear their cruel remarks about my looks or odor. I knew that I was dirty and smelled; I didn't need people pointing it out to me.

"I don't, but…I can pay for it." I don't know what the hell made me say that because…I couldn't. I couldn't even afford to keep myself fed for two consecutive days.

He quirked an eyebrow at me, knowing full well that I couldn't. "Okay, what about dry cleaning?" I amended my statement.

"Dry cleaning? You want me to leave a three hundred dollar shirt with a dry cleaner that I don't know? Because you surely can't afford my dry cleaner." He laughed humorlessly. "Ugh, just…just get away from me. And while you're at it, take a bath – you reek."

He turned from me while holding his soiled shirt away from his body. I stood grounded in my spot. My thoughts were jumbled and I couldn't utter a single word in my defense. I couldn't tell him that I had showered and it was my clothes that probably smelled. I couldn't tell him that we all weren't born with a silver spoon in our mouths. I couldn't tell him to fucking get over it, it's a shirt. Once upon a time I could have told him all of that – when my words actually mattered.

What I could do, though, was start to cry. I already felt worthless. Hell, I _knew_ I was worthless, but to have someone basically throw it in your face hurt. Not only was I hurt, but I was determined to show him I could do something besides take hand outs. I wiped my tears away with vigor. I had a new goal – I would have three hundred dollars by next month to pay for his stupid shirt.

With renewed "confidence", I headed toward the line that already had a few people on it. After I left here and went back to the part of the city that I belonged in, I would start collecting the money.

Waiting on line took longer than usual – and was quite torturous. Not only was it freezing, but the more I thought about what happened with the handsome stranger, the more depressed I got. The little determinacy I had began dwindling the more I thought about it. I was still going to pay him back to show him that I could do something despite my lack of…everything. The only thing I really feared was wanting to spend any money once I got it. It wouldn't be on frivolous things like getting my hair done or having a drink at the bar, but rather eating to survive.

I spent the rest of my time waiting on line to think about the different ways I would manage to get the money. I didn't have anything personal I could sell, so that was out of the question. Picking pocketing would probably be the quickest, but selling myself would guarantee me something. I would probably save begging for when I needed a little spare change for myself.

"We'll take the next ten people on line," a small girl called out. She was new. In the two years that I've been coming here, I had never seen her here before.

Since I was part of the ten granted access, I made my way inside the church. When I passed the young girl, I realized that she wasn't young at all. While she was on the short side, her facial features were quite pronounced and mature. She had green eyes that seemed to sparkle with ignorance. Her smile never wavered as one by one we all passed her to claim our treasure. I wish I was I blind as her. She probably felt good about herself – helping the less fortunate – but at the end of the day she went home to fall blissfully asleep, cuddled under a warm blanket on her memory foam mattress.

Oh, to be her for a day!

As usual, I stopped at one table at a time, trying to decide if there was anything offered that I needed. At the table that offered shoes, I spotted a pair of winter boots that I desperately wanted. However, before I could reach out for them, an elderly lady snatched them up, glaring at me while doing so. I tried searching for another pair of boots that would fit, but nothing turned up. I was even willing to go two or so sizes up; I could stuff some newspaper in them to make them fit properly. However, I was only able to find smaller sizes, and I knew from past experience that going even a size smaller could be horrendous on my feet. In the end, I wounded up with plain, white, cheap looking tennis shoes that were two sizes too big. I just hoped that they would get me through the month.

My next stop was at the table that held t-shirts and tank tops. I quickly grabbed one of each, wanting to move on to the next table – the sweaters. Specifically, I was looking for a hoodie as I always found them to be the most comfortable. Searching the disheveled pile, I finally spotted what I was looking for. It was pink and apparently, the owner went to NYU as the front logo indicated.

I made my way over to the table where the pants selection was. I searched through the pile looking for the sturdiest pair of jeans. When I was finally "happy" with my selection, the girl from before was standing in front on me, on the opposite side of the table.

"Those jeans look like they might be too big on you," she said frowning. If my situation was funny, I would have laughed at her. She really was blissfully ignorant.

"Yeah, I know, but they never have my size," I replied, shrugging and ready to move on.

"Well, what size are you? I'll help you look." She began digging through the pile without waiting for my answer.

"Two." I watched as she halted her movement to look up at me.

"Get out," she replied, almost longingly. "I'm trying to get down to a size five, I'm a six, but I can't stop eating," she continued rambling on. It wasn't until a few seconds later that she realized what she said. "Oh my god, I can't believe I said that. I'm so sorry."

I waved her off as if I didn't care although the reminder that I went to sleep starving on a habitual basis stung a little.

"It's alright. Anyway, I have a belt," I lied. My belt was actually I rope I stole that someone was using to dry their clothes on.

"Oh, um…alright. I'm just gonna go," she said awkwardly. "I'll be over there if you need anything."

I gave her a small smile and continued on. I only had one more thing to get but couldn't find it anywhere. I had spent another ten minutes looking before I decided I should ask one of the workers for help. I tried looking for the girl, but when I found her she was occupied on her cell phone. The only person that looked available was the lady who ran the whole operation and who I believed was the mother of the stranger. I started over to her, hoping that she hadn't seen the accident from earlier.

"Excuse me, miss?" I said, getting her attention.

"Hi, dear. What can I help you with?" she asked, offering me a bright smile. She didn't seem like she was aware of anything, making me feel extremely relieved.

"I was trying to find the coats but I don't see them anywhere," I answered.

"Oh, I'm sorry, you're not from the church, are you? There was an announcement in the newsletter."

I shook my head. "I'm from the south part of town," I informed her.

She nodded knowingly. "Well, because of the huge demand and donation of coats, we have a separate day solely for the coats. The coat drive is tomorrow. Can you come back then?" She seemed genuinely upset that I didn't know about the change.

"No, don't worry about it." I waved her off. "I'll get by. Now I know for next month. I'm just going to be going now. Thanks for the clothes." I held up the clothes in my hand, showing her, and began turning to the bathroom to change into my new acquisition.

"Wait!" She held up her hands, and began walking backwards. "Just hold on one second." It wasn't until I nodded my agreement that she turned around. I wasn't in a hurry to be anywhere, especially in the cold weather. At the same time, though, I didn't want to stay in this part of town longer than necessary.

Not ten minutes later, the lady came back with something in her hands. It looked like a coat, but I couldn't be sure.

"Here, try this on. It looks about your size, give or take." She thrusted the black coat in my arms and held the items I had in my hand. Trying on the coat, it was a little on the big size, but I knew that it should last me all winter. The inside was lined with wool that I found itchy now on my bare arms, but would prove to be very warm against the cold, especially when I had on my sweater.

"This is great! Thank you so much." I was smiling – really smiling for the first time in a long time. And for the first time in a long time, someone had done something selfless to help me out. Granted, it wasn't like she went out and bought me a brand new coat, but she could have told me to come back tomorrow like everyone else if I wanted the coat.

"Can I ask you something?" the woman asked me, hesitantly. My smile wavered as I saw her nervous expression.

"Yeah, sure," I whispered. I didn't know what she could possibly want to know about me, but I was nervous, too, none the less.

"Well, I've seen you every time you come in here and I notice that you only take one thing off each table. You're allowed up to three articles of each type of clothing. Why don't you take more?"

I guess she didn't remember the very first time I had visited here, but then again it was a long time ago and there was nothing about me that would stand out to her. The first time I was here I took the maximum of everything I possibly could. Like every other time, I went into the bathroom and changed into what I picked out. That time, the extra clothing that I did have was stuffed into a backpack that I carried at the time. I had been back to the south part of town for maybe about two hours when I was jumped and robbed. My bag was taken along with all my possessions. Not only were the new clothes in that bag, but there was also a toothbrush and a bar of soap I stole from the pharmacy, rope, a lighter, a can of soda, and about fifty bucks.

I was actually beaten pretty badly since I put up a fight for that backpack. Since I couldn't go to the hospital, I practically crawled myself to an abandoned warehouse that was inhabited with the usual suspects – the homeless, drug dealers and users, and prostitutes. I found a relatively quiet corner and nursed myself back to health. Really, I just slept. I was too weak to do anything else and it wasn't like I had the means to do anything else. I couldn't even afford a small bottle of water to clean my wounds. Eventually, I gathered the least bit of strength to go stand in the rain to wash off any dirt that was willing to come off.

From that day on, I never carried anything extra with me that would stand out, that included the clothes I changed out of. Any money I earned or stole went into my shoe or underwear. If by chance I came across a bar of soap, toothbrush, or anything that I deemed valuable, I hid it behind a loose brick from a building in the alleyway that I frequented often.

"There's a lot of people with families here. They need more clothes than I do; let them have it." It wasn't an absolute lie, but not the complete truth either.

"Oh, well that's nice of you, but it's really not necessary. We actually have a lot of clothes. When our stash gets low we bring more out from boxes."

"Maybe next time. I really am fine right now."

The lady smiled sadly at me, but I think she was trying to hide it. "Of course. Well, I'll let you get going now. Make sure you bundle up; it's supposed to be really chilly tonight."

Great! All I needed was another cold night. My only saving grace was that _if_ I got back downtown quick enough, I could snag a bed at the shelter.

I gave the lady a small wave and began heading in the direction of the bathroom. I turned back quickly to ask her one more question before she went back to business.

"Excuse me, do you have the newspaper? If you're done with it, that is." I figured that if I knew what the weather was going to be like for the rest of the week, or at least the next few days, I could plan accordingly.

"I might. My son takes it sometimes and I don't know if he did today. Give me one second to look," she answered. I could have told her that he didn't and I knew for a fact because I literally ran into to him.

She returned not two minutes later with a visibly disheveled newspaper. "I'm sorry it's such a mess. My daughter was digging through it for the coupons and she can't put a paper back together to save her life." She chuckled at her own joke and it made me want to cry. She reminded me of my own mother and how she used to laugh at her own jokes all of the time, whether they were funny or not.

"Thank you. Do you want a dollar for it, or however much it cost?" I searched for the front page, looking for the price of the Sunday paper. I didn't want this lady to think I was mooching off of her generosity.

"Oh, no. Don't worry about it. They get delivered to my home every Sunday." She waved me off, smiling as she turned her back to me.

I continued back to the direction of the bathroom to change and start heading back to where I really belonged.

Finally changed into the new clothes and free of the old, grimy ones, I started the trek downtown with the newspaper under one arm. As I walked through the streets, I observed my surroundings – more like the people surrounding me. Everyone seemed to be in a hurry to get someone, even on what's supposed to be a lazy day. And although I didn't see any form of relaxation on any passing face, I couldn't help but wish I was one of them. They all seemed to have a sense of purpose, of belonging. Even on this Sunday, I saw people who had a look of authority on their face, ready to reprimand anyone who stepped out of line or hadn't turned in their status reports on time.

I saw mothers dragging their children along, maybe to the grocery store to pick up something for dinner, or the rebellious teenager on their way to meet a friend to cause some type of mischief. I would pick any of those roles instead of my own.

If I died right now, no one would be none the wiser. I would have no one to mourn my death and tell others what I good person I was. I had no one to remember the time when I used to volunteer at the animal shelter and organize some kind of drive to raise money to keep the animals alive. No one would know that I loved to read or horror movies were my preference. While my body entered Riga Mortis, no one would know that my name was Bella and I dreamed of being a famous artist one day. I would be just one less person on line at the soup kitchen and shelter.

Realizing that I was depressing myself, I shifted my thoughts to where they should be. I needed to make three hundred dollars by next month and keep myself alive in the process. I took another look at my surroundings, trying to find someone I could make a quick buck off of. I didn't have to look for long. A young girl stepped out of a Starbucks, distracted with the task of digging through her gigantic purse that probably wasn't even half full.

As she is walked in my direction, still searching for something in the cave she called a purse, I sped up my movements toward her. When she is merely feet in front of me, I moved slightly to the left, bumping into her as we passed. Just like I hoped, her bag and its contents spilled to the floor.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," I quickly apologized and kneeled to help her gather her things. When my knee hit the floor, I made sure it landed right above her wallet. I placed my newspaper down, successfully shielding my knee and the wallet it's rested upon.

"No problem," she replied, distracted. She didn't offer an apology for not paying attention where she was walking, and I guess I really didn't expect one, either. Although, technically I was the one the bumped into her, it _could_ have been her fault, also.

When everything was back in her purse, she stood up and walked away, not saying anything else. When I was convinced she wouldn't turn back, I stood up, quickly stashing the wallet in my coat pocket and stuffed the newspaper under my arm. It wasn't until I was finally in my part of town that I felt slightly more comfortable. However, it wasn't until I reached my own personal spot that I would even dare search through the wallet.

German Street was a small dead end off a fairly busy business street. Nothing but a parking lot, two apartment buildings, and a forgotten billboard rested on this street. Behind the billboard was where I made my home on nice nights. It was the only place where I actually had the smallest tinge of privacy. I had no idea why, but no one else seemed to know about this dirty, little oasis. No one ever came here, at least when I was there.

I placed the newspaper on the ground and tried getting as comfortable as the moist dirt below me would allow. I reached into my pocket for the wallet. Having the sudden urge to know about the owner of said wallet, I held off on counting the money in the wallet and began looking through the rest of the items. The wallet belonged to Bree Tanner, a twenty year old female with brown eyes who reached five feet five inches. She took an amazing license photo, but more importantly, she looked healthy and I instantly hated her.

Along with her license she had a few pictures with a handsome guy, who I assumed was her boyfriend, and a few credit cards. Stupidly, she also had her social security card in there. Shaking my head at the ignorance of the girl, I gave up on going through her Coach wallet. Widening the slot where the money was held, I reached in and grabbed every bill it contained. My eyes widened at what I saw. There were twenties, tens, and a few singles. I hadn't counted it, but I could tell that there was easily more than a hundred dollars resting in my hand. Curiosity finally got the better of me and I counted it. In total, there was $153!

I was ecstatic, to say the least. In just a matter of hours I was more than half way to the three hundred that I needed. If my luck kept up, I could have the stranger's money in about a week.

After I counted the money for what seemed like the twentieth time, to make sure I wasn't just imaging the amount I held in my hand, I began to notice the wind picking up again. It would be too cold to stay behind the billboard tonight. Stuffing the now folded money into my underwear, I stood up, grabbed the newspaper and wallet, and started the short journey to the local soup kitchen for an early Sunday dinner.

I tossed the muddy newspaper in the trash can that was placed in front of one of the apartment building, after I checked the weather for the upcoming week, which promised to be cold Monday through Wednesday. I made sure to take the long way to the soup kitchen in order to pass the post office. I deposited the money-less wallet into the mailbox and kept on walking.

When I finally arrived at the soup kitchen, I saw the line of people waiting outside begin to walk through the now open doors. Reaching the very back, I fell in line with the rest and slowly marched along. It was a lot quieter than usual, but it was also a Sunday which funny enough was a "slow day" for the soup kitchen - as if there were a sudden influx of well-off people on Sunday suddenly having compassion for us homeless, taking them of the street and feeding them.

When I was closer to where the food was stationed, I grabbed a tray and began following my fellow starving comrades. One of the items on the menu today was soup, probably to help against fight against the blistering weather and the colds and flues that were sure to follow. If it was five years ago, I would have groaned. I hated canned soup, and I was positive that what looked to be chicken noodle soup was from a can. However, after spending almost three years on the street, I quickly learned to eat whatever deemed edible, and even things that could be considered questionable. Canned soup was an extravagant luxury when you lived off of browning lettuce and rock hard bread.

I grabbed my soup, an open-faced roast beef sandwich, and luke warm water with a tea bag swimming inside. When I entered the cafeteria, I had spotted Old Man Marcus, so I headed in his direction. He was sitting alone and I couldn't be more grateful. I wasn't in the mood to have to make nice with a lot of people.

"Bad day?" he asked in greeting. I had only known him for about a year, but he was able to read me so well.

"You could say that," I answered as I began ripping open a sugar packet I found on the table.

"It could always be worse." I looked at him incredulously; although I can't say that I was surprised to hear him say that. He was a glass-half-full kind of guy. I wouldn't say we were exactly close, as I never allowed myself to get close to anyone, learning my lesson after what happened with Jane, but I was closest to him than I was to anyone else.

He flashed me a big, innocent smile and I couldn't help but chuckle. He was right – things could be worse, I could be sitting here right now with Aro, the slimy old man who constantly tried to become my pimp.

"Eat your food, old man," I giggled. He looked at me with mock offense, but turned to eat anyway. We sat in silence and ate our only meal of the day.

When I was cleaning up my area, Marcus turned to me with his own tray in hand. "So this is good-bye, kid."

I looked at him questioningly, not at all knowing what he was talking about.

"Remember what I talked your ear off about? California?" I nodded my head in remembrance. He told me that he had gotten in contact with some grandchildren that lived in California. They told him that if he found a way over there, they were willing to put him up – get him back on his feet.

"Well, I leave tonight. I have a buddy that's willing to drive me to Portland. From there I'm going to try hitchhiking. Either way, I'm hoping to be in California in about two weeks." He was smiling ear to ear. As much as I would miss him, as was still so happy for him. He was doing what I dreamt of doing for the past six months already.

Without thinking carefully, I dug into my pants and grabbed the cash that was hidden in my underwear. I counted out some money and handed it over to Marcus.

"What's this?" he looked at the cash he held in his hand as if it was pure gold.

"I want to help you get there. I might be leaving soon and hopefully I'll find someone to help me out. I just want you to get there – be happy, you deserve it."

In a surprising move, Marcus dropped his try on the table and scooped me up in a hug. After getting over the initial shock, I hugged him back with as much strength that I had.

"Thank you," he whispered, tears in his eyes.

"Just go. I don't want to see your wrinkling face in Washington anymore," I laughed, trying to lighten the heavy mood that surrounded us. With one more parting hug, he grabbed his try and walked past me.

I stood in the same place and watched the only person I could probably consider a friend walk out of my life forever.

**AN: Thanks for reading. So this one chapter is un-beta'd, but will be getting beta'd. I want to see what kind of reaction I got from this story to see if I continue it or not.**

**For those of you who are reading either of my other two stories, Silent Sufferer or Fighting Our Fate, this story is one of the reasons why I haven't updated as fast or frequently. It won't leave me alone. BUT…there will be a lemon in the next chapter of FOF.**

**Lastly, none of my stories will have posting schedules. I wish I was one of those authors who could pump out chapter after chapter, but I can't. With working full-time and taking care of my family, I don't have a lot of extra time on my hands.**

**Leave me a review and tell me what you thought of this chapter. I'll take anything you'll offer.**

**Follow me on Twitter and Tumblr : cruiz107. Send me a friend request on FB: Cruiz FanFiction.**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Another chapter to give you a better idea of where the story may be heading. It's still un-beta'd, but will be soon.**

**Thanks for the reviews and alerts/favs. I haven't responded to reviews because I've been working all day, but I read them and love 'em. **

**All things Twilight belong to SM.**

I was lucky to nab a free cot at the shelter. It was now snowing, in mid-November, and that guaranteed a full house tonight.

Not only was the shelter full, but it was also occupied by a lot of unfamiliar faces. While this wasn't exactly unheard of, tonight it made me a little weary. It wasn't usual that I carried a hundred dollars with me – haven given Marcus the fifty-three. I was getting paranoid, like I was being watched. Luckily, I had no extra baggage with me that I would have to keep guard overnight.

Although sleep finally found me around nine, the paranoia I felt never ceased. I woke up every hour, looking for anything unusual. It ended up being one of the worst night's sleeps, even though I was more than warm. With the heat the shelter provided, plus all the extra body heat from the crowd, I was actually sweating.

I woke up at seven, the designated time. There was a hustle and bustle around me; the people readying to venture out for another day of survival on the streets. I was still groggy from my lack of sleep. I wasn't ready to move on just yet, but I had no other choice. My feeling of paranoia seemed to have vanished with the moon. I no longer felt eyes on me which caused me to drop my guard slightly.

I was finally out of the shelter's door at seven fifteen. My stomach was growling and my head was pounding – I needed food. However, the soup kitchen only served dinner and that wasn't until five this evening.

I remembered the money I had stuffed in my underwear, but quickly dispelled that thought. I had given Marcus about a third of my money yesterday and the rest could not be touched.

I suddenly remembered a bakery that was located around the corner from here that opens at five in the morning. Everything they sold was made on location. I knew this because on nights that I had to sleep on the street, if I was close enough, I could smell the baking bread and muffins. I decided to take a chance to see if maybe they had thrown any scrapes away yet.

I took the short walk to the bakery and made the quick turn to the side of the building to access the dumpster the bakery shared with the florist next door. I could smell the lingering odor of baking sweets, cupcakes perhaps. The green dumpster's lid was open and I felt slightly hopeful. As I got closer, something jumped out from behind the dumpster. I swallowed a scream, not wanting to alert anyone of my presence. A gray and orange cat, standing in front of the dumpster looked at me with wide eyes. In his mouth he held what looked like a muffin top. I contemplated stealing it from the beautiful feline until I heard another rustling coming from the side of the dumpster closest to the cat. The cat let out a deep throated menacing growl when I stepped closer. I froze momentarily, but then continued. When the cat saw that I had no intention of being scared away, it scampered to the side of the dumpster.

When I peered in the direction the cat had ran off to, what I saw made my heart melt. Along with the familiar cat were three little kittens wrestling with each other. They were absolutely adorable and I wanted to hold one so badly, However, I knew better. The gray and orange cat, the mother cat I assumed, stood guard in front of them, muffin top still in its mouth, not letting me get too close to her babies. I respected her love and devotion and backed away. The cat needed the muffin more than I did if she was going to keep her kittens alive.

I walked out from the side of the building, still hungry and still clueless. The bright sun was shining, blinding me. Stupidly, I kept my head down, not wanting the sun beaming on my face. I saw feet heading in my direction and made sure to give myself enough distance so I wouldn't have another accident like yesterday. However, as I moved to the left, so did the other pair of feet. I looked up to see who was the owner of the shoes. He looked familiar, but I wasn't sure where I saw him from. He was very poorly dressed so I gathered I had to have seen him in either soup kitchen or homeless shelter.

As I went to pass him, he grabbed my wrist and forced me back to the side of a different storefront. He roughly pushed me against the wall, making me hit my head in the process. I wanted to scream out in pain, or for help, but knew that would be a mistake on my part. If I stayed quiet and submissive, he would make it quick and it would be less painful.

He quickly threw one hand down my pants while the other held me by my neck, making breathing hard. I waited for what he would do next. However, he didn't make a move to remove any clothing. I felt his hand frantically move around the crotch of my jeans. I knew what he wanted now. Once the thought entered my mind, his hand exited my pants, the hundred dollars in hand. For what was probably supposed to be good measure, he slapped me hard across the face and kicked me when I fell to the ground.

I _wasn't_ paranoid when I thought someone was watching me. He had to have been because how else would he have known where I kept my money? Granted, I didn't help the situation by openly grabbing the money out of my hiding spot to give to Marcus.

I felt the warmth of the blood as it slid down my nose and the warmth in my pants. I made no move to wipe it away or get up. I was suddenly tired and wanted to stay where I was. Fortunately, the snow from last night stuck, providing a softer ground for me to rest. Sleep was a lot easier to find this time around.

I don't know how long I slept for, but when I woke up the sun was much lower in the sky. I sat up against the building. I felt rested and disoriented at the same time. My head hurt and it seemed that the growling in my stomach from this morning never let up.

When I finally managed to pull myself from off the ground, a sudden draft blew my way, sending a violent shiver down my back. I was freezing when just seconds ago I felt fine. My lower front felt especially cold. I looked down to see the large wet spot on my pants. I didn't remember wetting myself, but apparently I had.

I groaned when I realized that I just received these jeans. I had no way of washing them and I would most likely have to wear them stained and smelly until next month. It was a rarity that I got to wash my clothes.

My rumbling stomach reminded me, again, that I had yet to eat. Though I didn't know what time it was, I figured it had to be at least past six o'clock, meaning the soup kitchen was probably out of food by now. I wasn't going to bother wasting the little energy I had finding out.

Begging for spare change was going to have to be the course of the night. I hated begging, as it put me on display. People would look at me disgustedly; making rude comments under the breath thinking that I couldn't hear.

Tightening my coat, bracing myself for the cold once again, I stepped out onto the sidewalk. I looked to the left and right, hoping to see anyone heading my way. I saw a group of emerging from the bus that stopped at the corner. Hopefully, I would be able to at least collect a dollar amongst all of them. If I had my guitar, I could have been one of those people who sat on a building stoop, strumming some chords while a paper cup sat out in the open to hold the few coins people would toss my way.

I shook my head to rid myself of the shoulda, coulda, woulda's and prepared myself to beg. The first group of people came nearer and I groaned inwardly. I hated asking young girls for money – they were the worst. But I was desperate.

"Can you spare any change?" I asked, looking down at my feet and not able to meet their eyes.

"Seriously?" one of them scoffed. "If it's to buy a bar of soap then I'll think about it." Her two friends laughed with her. "Oh, and you smell like piss." They continued walking and laughing at my expense.

I tried not to let words hurt me, but it was an impossible goal. The only thing I could do was to push it to the back of my mind and move forward.

"Can you spare any change?" I asked a lone female walking with ear buds in her ears. She kept on walking, not even acknowledging me. I wanted to think that it was because she couldn't hear me, but I saw her stiffen when I asked.

I asked the next few people I saw, getting the same response from them all – I was ignored.

I stuffed my cold hands in my pockets, ready to walk away. I had only been soliciting for about twenty minutes but I already felt defeated. I was going to have to come to grips with the fact that I would not be eating today.

It was too early to head to the shelter; they didn't let people in this early. I would have to spend a few hours behind the billboard. With my pink hoodie covering my head and my hands tucked tightly in my pockets, I turned to leave. The wind began to pick up and I brought my head down to prevent my nose and cheeks from becoming ice cold.

Half way down the block I began feeling dizzy again and I could feel my headache getting more intense. I closed my eyes briefly, hoping to relieve some of the tension I was feeling in my head. In those few seconds that I walked with my eyes closed I collided with another pedestrian. I heard an "oof" from the person as I landed on my ass. I wasn't quick to get up as the fall knocked a lot out of me.

"I'm so sorry," a male voice said above, extending a hand to help me up. I reached for the hand, excepting the help as I couldn't get up so easily.

"No worries. It's my fault; I should have been looking," I responded as a brushed the snow off my coat and backside.

"It's you," the voice said, hotly. It wasn't until I heard that did I look up. To my utter horror, he was the stranger from the church yesterday. It would be my luck that I would bump into him again.

"Sorry," I mumbled. I couldn't look at him again without wanting to cry. He represented everything that has gone wrong in the last forty-eight hours. But really, it was my fault for not looking where I was going…both times.

"What is that smell?" he asked, scrunching his nose up in disgust. He sniffed the air around him. "Is that you? You smell like piss, or something." The second time I heard it within an hour and it didn't hurt any less.

"Yeah, I know…I…" What was I supposed to say? That I wet myself when I thought I was about to be raped?

"And is that… dried blood on your face?" he asked, swiping at his own nose.

"Oh…yeah." I wiped the crusted blood from under my nose and where I felt it curving my lip. I had actually forgotten about it until he mentioned it. "Thanks," I whispered. I wasn't even embarrassed my appearance; it wasn't like I could do anything about it.

"What the hell happened to you, anyway? Your cheek is kind of puffy," he commented.

Christ! Was there something else he was going to point out?

It didn't even feel swollen, but that was probably due to sleeping on snow.

"Look, I'm sorry, again. I'm gonna go. I'll see you next month," I said, wanting to get the hell out of there.

"Sure I will," I heard him sarcastically respond when my back was turned.

I couldn't bear to be out in the street any longer. It seemed like my luck went from bad to worse the longer I stayed.

I had no intentions, and I really didn't want to, but I changed directions and headed towards the motel. I needed to take a shower and hopefully find some way to wash these jeans. I wouldn't dread it so much if I had money, but I didn't. That meant that I had to "see" James. I wasn't in the mood for sex, not that I ever was, but tonight especially.

Half hour later, I was standing in line behind some overweight trick and her john as they were handed their room key.

When it was finally my turn, James smiled at me as I approached the glass.

"Can I help you?" he asked, wearing a knowing grin.

"I need a room…and I don't have any money," I whispered the last part.

"Well isn't it my lucky night," he said, rubbing his hands together.

James wasn't an ugly man, by any means. He had luscious blond hair that had been kept tied back when it was longer. He began sporting a short cut the past couple of months, which in my opinion looked better that way. His eyes were a clear blue that sparkled when the light hit them just right. He was built, but not overly so. What made him ugly, though, was his slimy personality. He was an opportunistic to the fullest.

"Can I just get a shower first?" I asked. "There was an accident on the street today and I reek." It wasn't for James' benefit, but for my own. I knew that once I removed my pants and underwear, the urine smell would become stronger.

He looked at me skeptically, trying to decide if I was trying to deceive him.

"Oh, c'mon. You're the one giving me the key; you'll know what room I'm in. It's not like I can hide from you. Besides, when have I ever not held up on my end?"

"Yeah, you're right," he shrugged. He grabbed a dangling key from a hook and slid it under the glass. "Be back in twenty."

"Yup." I grabbed the key and headed to room twelve. Upon entering the room, I stripped myself of my coat and shoes. Just as quickly, I hopped in the shower. It wasn't that I was in a rush to get back to James, but rather rid myself of my shameful odor.

Not ten minutes later, I was out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel. I sat on the bed and dialed the front desk on the phone.

"Yeah," James answered.

"It's me," I replied. "Do you want to come to my room or do you want me to go down there?"

"Why are you even asking? You know I want you down here. I'll see you in a few." With that he hung up the phone.

I rolled my eyes at no one, but stood to leave the room. Once upon a time, I would have never dared to leave a sleazy motel wrapped only in a towel, but those days were over. I doubted I would run into anyone in the hallway and even if I did, whoever did see me was in no place to judge.

Two minutes later I was entering James' office with him following behind. He left his door opened, which didn't surprise me. You could see right into the lobby from his office, and I knew he hoped someone would come to the front desk as I was bent over.

"You didn't have to dress up for little old me," he said, batting his eyes. I rolled my eyes again but didn't respond.

He stepped closer to me, tugging on the towel, allowing it to fall to the ground.

"You're on the skinny side, but fuck are you sexy," he said, licking his lips.

"Thanks," I replied dryly. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful or anything, but can we please get this over with? It's cold, I'm tired, and I just want to get to bed."

"I'm hurt," he responded in mock offensive. "You make it sound like I don't bring you pleasure."

I shrugged in response. I wasn't in the mood for games tonight. I really just did want to get to bed.

He stepped closer to me and wrapped one arm around my naked waist to bring me closer. I was shocked that he just didn't bend me over his desk chair like he usually did. Instead, he bent low and took my nipple into his mouth. I gasped in surprised; he never did this before. He swiped his tongue against my hardened nipple and bit down softly. He brought his other hand down and began tracing my lips there, finally coming to a stop at my clit. He began rubbing with just the right amount of pressure to make my body respond. I let out an involuntary moan. It wasn't that I liked James, but no one has done anything that brought _me_ pleasure since before I lived on the streets.

He freed one nipple just to capture the other. I was wet, soaked actually, and I hated myself for it.

One finger and then two entered me, pumping me slowly but then increasing in pace. I was fighting a moan that wanted to be freed. I wasn't supposed to enjoy this, but my body felt differently.

Eventually, he did turn me around and bend me over his chair, but it wasn't as rough as it usually was. Slowly, he ran one finger down my spine, leaving goose bumps in its wake, until he found my pussy. This time, however, he only rubbed my clit, not bothering entering me again.

He held his cock in his other hand as he used it to trace my lips once again. He dipped it in only far enough to get it wet, but not enter me, mercilessly teasing me. I wouldn't admit it to him, but I was wanting.

When I finally couldn't take anymore and began to squirm in annoyance, he finally shoved his dick in. I wasn't in the mood for the slow pace at which he started, but it still felt good. I began pushing back into him, hoping he would get the message and go faster. Luckily, he did. He held onto my waist tightly and began thrusting faster. I let another moan slip and I mentally kicked myself. I didn't want him to know that I was enjoying myself.

Once upon a time, when I wasn't a nameless no body, I had explored sexually. I used the excuse that it was part of the college experience. The truth was that I just enjoyed casual sex. I knew what I liked and I was too caught up in my own dream to reach the top that I didn't have time for commitment.

When I had sex, I liked it rough and fast. I was never the slow and steady type. However, if I knew where life was going to lead me I would have treasured every affectionate embrace. Now, whenever I had sex it was never about me. It was about them. Sometimes the sex was rough, but it was an I-need-to-hurry-the-hell-up-and-get-home-to-me-wife kind of rough.

I felt James' body slightly stiffen and I surmised that he was near his end. I was nowhere near close to finishing, but I never intended to anyway. James quickly pulled out and spilt his seed all over my ass. It was degrading and I wanted to cry.

"Fuck, that was good. See, I told you I could bring you pleasure." He sounded so arrogant and it made me want to cry even harder. "I'm surprised your pussy is that tight after the shit you've done," he chuckled.

That was it! I couldn't stand being in the room with him any longer. I've never felt more like a whore than I did at this very moment. I bent to grab the towel and rewrapped it around myself. I left his office without another word. Luckily, no one was in the lobby or hallways. I refused to cry over a scumbag like James.

Once I stepped inside my room, I jumped back into the shower, letting the water get as hot as it would go. I scrubbed my back as best as I could, ridding myself of that asshole.

Stepping out of the bathroom, I spotted my panties and jeans. I grabbed them and retreated back into the bathroom. With water and a bar of soap, I washed my panties and the crotch of my jeans. I wanted to wash the whole pair of jeans but I knew they wouldn't dry by morning. I flung the underwear and jeans over the shower rod and left the room once again.

Looking at the clock I saw that it was just before eight. It was going to be another early night and I was okay with that. I needed this day to end already.

It was a fitful night's sleep – typical. An all too familiar two story house haunted my dreams again. Happy memories from my childhood turned into sad memories, as my final night at home before I left for college played in my mind. It would have been fine if my dreams stopped there, but they ever did.

Bittersweet memories turned into torturous ones as I saw myself sitting graveside, my best friend holding my hand, as the white casket was lowered into the ground. Last, but by no means least, my nightmare faded out as I lay wrapped up in an old, family quilt, rocking back and forth, crying.

I woke with a start. Leaning over the side of the bed as I emptied what was in my stomach, which was very little since I hadn't eaten anything the day before. It wasn't unusual that I was jolted awake. It was like my mind was protecting me from dreaming any further then I already did; I never got any further in my dream than lying in the bed.

What was unusual, though, was throwing up. I attributed it to the bump I received yesterday. I probably had a concussion and didn't even realize it. Then again, it could have been anything. I'm sure my body was a germ and infection breeding ground. The reality of the matter is that I'm actually surprised I was still breathing. I had ingested and eaten so many things that would probably have killed a lesser person.

After I was sure that nothing else was going to come up, I threw my legs over the other side of the bed. Someone else could worry about cleaning my puke up. I went into the bathroom, pissed, and rinsed my mouth out with water. I grabbed my jeans and underwear, finding them only slightly damp, but odor free.

I glanced at the wall clock before heading out; it read ten a.m. I couldn't believe that I had slept about fourteen hours. I guess it did make sense, though. My body probably made up for all the time I spent tossing and turning through the night.

I braced myself for the cold. I had no plan for the day, though I never really did. It would be nice to have a purpose to wake up every morning - even if it was to go to a job that I hated.

I walked the streets aimlessly, trying to forget the pain in my stomach and my lightheadedness. Somehow, I managed to find myself in the decent part of town. It was wedged in between my part of town, the avoid-at-all-cost part, and the area where St. Mark's was located.

When I finally felt like I couldn't go any longer, I walked over to a bagel shop and slid down the side of it. I needed to rest and I just so happened to stop here. I contemplated asking for money again, but couldn't find the energy to do even that.

The door to the bagel shop opened and closed, ringing a little bell above the door. A delicious smell wafted out and blew across my nose. My stomach was no longer growling, but full on screaming at me. I resolved myself to ask the first person I saw and if I was rejected I would head back to Elliott, a street that was good for picking up dates, even this early in the day. I needed to get money one way or the other.

I saw a pair of sneaker clad feet heading my way. Hopefully, this person would spare at least fifty cents my way.

"Excuse me, can you spare anything?" I asked, looking up at the same time. And as my luck would have it, it was the stranger that I had run into the past three days. A look of displeasure rested on his face.

"Are you following me?" he asked, seriously, annoyed.

"No," I answered, defeated. I was hoping, oh so hard, that I could get something so I wouldn't have to go to Elliott.

"So why is it that I've never seen you a day in my life and now for the past three days you've been showing up everywhere?"

"I dunno." I struggled to get up from my spot on the cold cement. My dizziness was not subsiding, making my movements slow and unsteady. After finally succeeding, I offered him a small wave. "See ya," I said lowly. I wanted to hate this man, but it wasn't his fault. I wouldn't want to be around me, either.

"Wait," he groaned. I turned slowly to see what he could possibly want from me. Hopefully, it wouldn't be a tongue lashing, because my spirits just couldn't take it today. "How much do you need?" he asked impatiently.

I shrugged. "Fifty cents?" I wasn't getting my hopes up that he would spare me anything, even if I wasn't asking for much.

"Fifty cents?" he asked, condescendingly. "What could you possibly do with fifty cents?"

"A lot," I answered, nodding my head. "That's enough for a bag of chips, or one of those single wrapped coffee cakes, or cookies, or one of those small bottles of water. Basically, it's enough to hold me until five." I didn't know why I was explaining this to him. He didn't look like he was going to give up even a dime.

"What happens at five?" he asked.

"The soup kitchen serves dinner." The thought sent my stomach into a whirlwind.

He stared at me as if he was trying to figure out if I was telling the truth. "You're not lying to me, are you?" he asked. I was right. "You're not getting me to help support some kind of habit?"

I shake my head slowly. "No. Eating isn't a habit I can afford to pick up," I answered. For just the briefest moment, he looked ashamed, but it was fleeting. He continued to stare at me, unmoving. Because I was getting cold just standing there, I decided to keep on moving since he wasn't giving anything away.

"Take care," I said, while turning my back. I thought about finding a library that I could spend a few hours in. The only one I knew of was a few miles away and I was too tired to make the journey.

"Come with me," he said roughly, grabbing my forearm from behind me. I hadn't even heard him get close. "You don't smell so bad today," commented as he turned me around again and headed toward the bagel shop.

I had never been in here before as it was not something I was likely to spend the little money I had on. It was a cute little place that took on a cafe-type layout. There were about six round tables scattered throughout the shop.

"What kind of bagel do you want?" he asked while finding an unoccupied table. He question caught me off guard. Even though I clearly knew where we were entering in, I didn't think he was going to by me a whole bagel. I wanted to reject his offer in protest of the way he treated me every time we encountered each other, but I learned a long time ago to never let my pride get in the way.

"Well?" he repeated, even more impatiently than he had before. I hadn't eaten a bagel in so long that I forgot how I used to eat them. I just blurted the first thing that came to mind.

"Everything bagel with cream cheese, please," I said. "Thank you," I added as an afterthought.

He walked away quickly, probably wanting to get the hell away from me already. While waiting for my bagel, I began pondering why I chose an everything bagel. I didn't eat those in my former life. It wasn't until I saw an older lady sipping coffee a few tables down, did I finally realize. My mother used to eat everything bagel with cream cheese. I always preferred egg bagels.

I sat, thinking about my mother all those years ago. I would never let her kiss me after she ate one of those bagels because I always thought her breath stunk afterward. It always became a game – her trying to give me kisses while I ran around the house, giggling, trying to get away from her stinky breath.

I didn't realize I was chuckling until the stranger came back. "Are you crazy? Are there meds you should be taking?" he asked cautiously. "It's not normal to laugh while you're sitting alone."

I quieted immediately, embarrassed by my actions. "No, I'm not crazy. Sorry about that." I didn't know why I was apologizing when, really, I hadn't done anything wrong. "Thank you," I said again as he handed me a brown paper bag. He held his own in his hand.

"Do you want me to go to another table, leave?" I doubt he wanted to sit with me. He had been rude and insensitive every time we've met, but I didn't want to put him in the position to ask me to leave. If I beat him to the punch, he wouldn't have the opportunity to insult me for, what seemed like, his own pleasure.

"No, it's fine. You can say if you want," he replied, no bothering to look at me as he removed his own, egg bagel, from a bag.

"Ok, thanks," I whispered. Before opening my bag, I looked around the small shop, trying to spot anything suspicious. Even though I doubted anyone in this shop would be watching me, I still had to make sure.

"What are you looking at?" he asked, annoyed. I shrugged in response and continued with my bagel. It wasn't as if I could tell him that I was just making sure that, before I started eating, there was no one waiting to jump me or steal my food. He would certainly think I was crazy then, but if happens often enough to make me cautious.

I took the first bite of my bagel, chewing rapidly, and hunching over it when I placed it down. My eyes never rested as I kept constant watch over my surroundings.

"You need to calm down. I can assure you that no one here wants your bagel." I narrowed my eyes at him, but turned them down quickly to my food.

The silence was awkward and tension filled the air until broke the silence by clearing his throat. I looked up to see if he was trying o get my attention or just choking.

"You know, this is the first time I've brought someone food without knowing their name first."

"Bella. What's yours?" I asked, figuring it was appropriate to ask for his name. After all, he did buy me breakfast and I did owe him about three hundred dollars. After a few seconds he still hadn't answered. "Never mind." I guess I shouldn't have been surprised that he didn't want to give me his name. However, I also couldn't' deny that it hurt my feelings.

"My name is Edward, if you must know," he finally answered, sounding bored.

"Strong name," I commented. "Thanks for breakfast, Edward. It's great."

It really was; better than great, actually. It was a hot and doughy. The cream cheese oozed from all sides. I hadn't had a good bagel since before I was homeless; it was something I couldn't afford. I even had to suppress a moan when I took my first bite. When one half was quickly eaten, I wrapped the other half up in napkins.

He nodded his head slowly. "Aren't you going to finish it?" he asked, looking at my half eaten bagel. "I thought you were _starving_?" he asked, dramatically pronouncing the last word

I looked at the bagel myself when I saw that he was looking at it. Explaining to anyone else would probably be embarrassing, but he already knew my situation. "I'm saving it."

"For what?" he asked, looking at me like I was the dumbest thing on the planet. "I thought you said you were eating at the soup kitchen tonight?"

I sighed deeply before answering, not really wanting to explain this part of it. "If everything goes fine between now and tonight, then yes, I'll eat there. But after today, I don't know. But now I have half a bagel, just in case."

"When was the last time you ate…before right now?" His bold question shocked me. I had no problem answering it – it wasn't like I had something to hide – but most people could care less about trivial things like that.

"Today's Tuesday," I said to myself. "Sunday," I answered him.

It was his turn to be shocked. "What about yesterday? You didn't eat anything at all yesterday?"

"No, never got the chance," I replied, shrugging. It wasn't a big deal to me. Going a day or two without eating was tolerable, but became a problem when I hit that third day.

There was another awkward silence; too many for just one sit down. Figuring it was probably time I start heading out, he decided to speak again.

"What happened to your face? It looks better today, but it looked pretty bad yesterday?"

He really had no shame!

I huffed when I realized that this was actually something that concerned him. I didn't want to tell him, my pride getting the better of me, but figured that it was something I should be truthful about it.

"Actually, I have to tell you about that." I took a deep breath. "I was mugged yesterday."

I stopped talking when I heard him snort. It was my turn to look at him like he was crazy. "I'm sorry," he apologized, putting his hands up. "But what the hell do I have to do with you getting mugged. And really, what could you possibly have that's worth taking?"

The more he talked, the shittier I felt about myself. He was constantly throwing things back in my face. I knew I was worthless, but basically hearing someone else say it to my face was brutal. I cleared my throat to help with the knot that was forming.

"I had some money that I was going to give you. Someone saw that I had it, I guess, and mugged me – took it all." I waited for a reaction – any reaction. He continued to look at me, pursing his lips, thinking. I wasn't going to say anything more until he did.

While continuing to wait for him to admonish or berate me, a passing woman dropped a pen. I snatched it up with no hesitation. I never kept a pen or pencil with me as it was never necessary. I grabbed a spare napkin that was on the table. I began drawing random lines on the white sheet, not really having anything particular in mind.

The longer I drew, the more the sketch became clearer. It wasn't until I heard a throat clearing that I realized what I had drawn. An almost perfect portrayal of Edward was staring back up at me.

"Sorry," I replied and crumpled up the napkin. Very rarely was I embarrassed, but it seemed like that's all I felt around Edward.

"How'd you get this money that was stolen from you?" he asked. I was grateful that he didn't comment on the drawing and let it go.

"I stole it," I answered simply as there was no point in lying about it.

He sighed deeply and remained quiet for a few seconds. Finally he spoke.

"I have a proposition for you."


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Thanks for all the love I got last chapter. I know I didn't respond to review, but I did read them. As a matter of fact, the review are still in my inbox.**

**I'll shut up…on with the show. All things Twilight belong to SM.**

"I have a proposition for you," I heard him say and I died a little inside.

I've heard those words before and they weren't words I liked hearing. No matter what was in it for me, I always walked away the loser. If I wasn't degraded, then I was slaved. The money was never anything good, but when you literally don't have two pennies to rub together, you do what you have to do.

Looking back at Edward after he had spoken, I couldn't help but wonder why he would need my services. He was a better than good looking guy who could nab anyone he wanted – male or female. Not only that, he made it perfectly clear from the moment I bumped into him, that he didn't really like me.

I groaned internally when I realized that I was taking too long to respond. I was either going to be paid money or wiped of any debt that I owed him. Either way, there was no way that I could pass up anything he was offering.

After the very first time I had accepted a "proposition" I realized that I needed to set some ground rules. As if my rote memory, I began speaking.

"I have some rules," I began. He looked at me like I was crazy, probably wondering why someone in my position had standards at all. "First, hitting me is not allowed. Neither is spitting on me. Secondly, if someone else is going to be there, I want more money and advanced notice. Third, no anal. Four , I want half the money up front. Lastly, you will always use a condom."

He continued looking at me wide-eyed – like I had five heads. I didn't think my conditions were outlandish. If he thought about it, I left a whole lot of room to do a lot of things.

"What the hell are you talking about, lady?" he whisper-yelled.

I was my turn to look at him like he was the crazy one. "You said you had a proposition and I'm just letting you know that I'll accept as long as you can agree to my conditions."

"Well, I don't know what you thought I was talking about, but I can guarantee you it's nothing like that," he said, looking absolutely disturbed

… and again, I was left feeling embarrassed.

"Well…what are you talking about, then?" I asked, lowly, not meeting his eyes.

"You paint, right?" he asked.

I began staring at him, gaping like a fish. "How did you know that I used to paint?"

"I didn't. I just assumed you painted since you obviously sketch." He pointed to the napkin and rolled his eyes at me. "It's the same thing, right?"

I wanted to laugh at his ignorance, but didn't. "No, they're not the same thing, but yes, to answer your question again, I do paint."

It was something I hadn't done in years, but I didn't think that it was something that I could just "forget" how to do.

" Good. Well, anyway, I came down this way to speak with some guy named Ben about painting a portrait for me, but it fell through." My eyes widened in realization. "I can offer you the job and we'll be square. That," he said, pointing to the crumbled napkin again, "was really good. If you can do that, just on a bigger scale, then we can help each other out."

So he wanted me to…paint? Was he for real? There had to be a catch, but I was too scared to ask what it was.

"So what? You want me to paint a portrait of you?" I asked instead.

"No, my parents. And it's not really a portrait, per say. They wouldn't be modeling for you or anything. They have this old picture of them from when they first began dating. As a Christmas present, I wanted it painted on a canvas."

That was really nice of him! My mind wandered to the lady at the church, as a young bride with her arms tightly wrapped around a man that looked like Edward.

"What's your mom's name?" I asked. Maybe the next time I saw her, I could actually use it.

"Esme."

"Very unique. Your mom is a lovely woman. I would be happy to do it for you, but _how_ would I be able to do it?" It wasn't like I could buy supplies and take them home with me.

"Well, Ben was going to buy the supplies and I was going to reimburse him, but that obviously isn't feasible for you," he responded, sounding annoyed by this fact. It seemed like he took every opportunity to throw my lack of resources back in my face. "Anyway, I guess I could just buy the materials that you would need."

Well, I guess that took care of that situation, but there was still the problem of an actual space to work.

"Ok. The thing is I don't really have anywhere stable to work." I thought for a moment. "I guess the warehouse would work, but the lighting is basically non-existent," I said to myself.

I heard Edward humorlessly laugh. "If you think that I trust you to work unsupervised, then you're sorely mistaken. The last thing I need is for you to sell _my_ materials for drug money."

He wanted to think the absolute worst of me. I never gave him any reason to believe that I was on drugs. I could understand him not trusting me because, frankly, he doesn't know me. However, if I was going to be honest with myself, it seriously stung that he thought of me as nothing more than something that was stuck on the bottom of his expensive Italian loafers.

I swallowed back the hurt and nodded my head in agreement.

"You'll work at my place a couple of times a week, supervised at all times. Every day, you can work for a few hours then leave. When it's done, hopefully, I'll never have to see you again and you'll have paid me back for ruining one of my favorite shirts." He smiled. "That sounds about right."

Actually, that wasn't right, but I could never tell him that. He wouldn't believe me. I knew the value of my work. I _was_ an up and coming artist – beginning to make a name for myself when everything went to hell. I was even featured in a small article in The Village Voice by an editor who happened to spot one of my paintings while visiting a relative in Seattle. I had a minimum charge of $500 – more than what I actually owed him. I may have still been in college, but there were people who actually wanted to pay me money for my art. But that was once upon a time.

"Is that okay with you?" he asked when I didn't immediately respond.

"Oh, yes, that's fine. Do you have the picture with you now?"

He nodded and dug in his coat pocket. He produced a folded paper that seemed like ordinary white, printer paper. He unfolded the sheet and handed it to me. I gently grabbed the creased paper to take a good look at my subject.

If I hadn't recognized Esme, I would swear the photo was fake. It looked like one of those photos that came in a new picture frame or wallet. Esme and who I assumed was Edward's father, were standing on a hilltop, the sun setting in the horizon, taking on that pinkish-orange color. Her arms were wrapped around the man's waist while her eyes were squeezed shut and her head turned to the side, wearing one of the biggest smiled I had ever seen . His head was dipped low, facing her and planting a kiss on her cheek.

The colors were intense, brilliant, and I couldn't wait to get to work.

"This picture is absolutely breath taking," I said smiling, looking back to Edward. He seemed uncomfortable, squirming in his seat. Immediately, I felt like an idiot gushing over a picture of his parents. "Sorry," I mumbled and handed him back his picture.

He cleared his throat. "So do you think that you can capture that moment on a canvass?"

Sadly, I couldn't – not really anyway. That picture captured a moment that was too beautiful to replicate, to do it justice.

"Nothing could capture that moment, but I'm honored that you trust me to try," I said, offering him a grateful smile. In a gesture that I've come to expect from him, he rolled his eyes at me.

"Honestly, it has nothing to do with trusting you. Their anniversary is a week before Christmas, so this is like a dual gift. I've been really busy these past few months and I let the ball drop. I'm in a pinch and right now, you're my last resort."

"Well, thanks" I thought. How was it possible that one man, one beautiful, insignificant man made me actually feel like the trash I was. Instead of voicing my thoughts, I just nodded in agreement. "Well, I hope you think I do a good job."

He shrugged. "So anyway, like I said, time is of the essence and you only have about a month. When can you start?"

Seriously? Should I tell him that I needed to check my schedule?

"I can start as soon as you buy the materials. Today or tomorrow is fine. Do you want me to give you a list of the supplies I'll need?"

"Yeah, that'd be great," he said, distracted, as he reached for his phone. While he was busy texting on his phone, I grabbed another napkin and began writing down the supplies he needed to pick up. It was harder than I thought it would be, for two reasons. First, I didn't even know if he was going to understand what he needed to get, regardless of me writing it. Hopefully, he was going somewhere where the sales people could help him.

The other reason it proved to be difficult was because just thinking about the paints and brushes as I wrote them down brought me back to a place that I could never return. The old Isabella was nowhere to be found and neither were the people who kept her grounded, supported her. Painting was always an escape for me, but I was fearful of what skeletons it would conjure up.

I quickly finished up when I noticed that he was putting his phone back in his pocket.

"I think that's about it," I said, looking over the list before I handed it over.

Once it was in his hand, he looked it over. "Alright, so how about you come over tomorrow? Can you meet me by the church?"

. It was going to be journey and a half to meet him by the church. Not only was it a long walk, but I would have to do it two times a day a couple of days a week. If that wasn't bad enough, the fact that winter came extremely early this year made the journey that much worse.

"Yeah, that fine," I finally answered, not really having a choice in the matter.

"Good, well I have to go. See you around noon tomorrow?" he asked, not even to wait for my answer. He scraped his chair against the floor in his eagerness to leave. I waved at his retreating form. Why? I have no clue.

With my uneaten half bagel now in a brown paper bag, I wrapped my coat closer to my body and walked outside. Again, I didn't have anywhere to be so I began walking around aimlessly. My mind was a mess with all thoughts art and Edward. I had a feeling that I couldn't quite understand. But I knew only one thing - taking Edward up on his offer was either going to make or break me.

Before I knew it, I was standing in front of St. Mark's church, the same church I would have to be at tomorrow. I had never been here before, aside from those few Sundays. It was quiet and a little unnerving to be here unprepared. Without anything else to do, and taking a deep breath, I walked up the front steps of the church. I put my ear up to the door to find out if there was a service going on or not, but I couldn't hear much through the massive door. Taking a chance, I went for the handle to see if the doors were locked. Fortunately, or possibly unfortunately, the doors were not locked and I was able to enter the basically empty church – with the exception of an older gentleman dusting a statue in the corner.

Said person stopped what he was doing when he heard me enter.

"Is it okay if I sit for a bit?" I asked the man. He smiled and nodded yes. Gratefully, I smiled back and began walking toward the alter. I hadn't been to church in a long time, but I knew enough to bow and do the sign of the cross before taking a seat in the pew

I felt so out of place here. This place was big and significant, where I was small and unimportant. It was a place of hope and I was a walking example of despondency.

I slouched on the pew, allowing my head to rest on the back of the bench. I closed my eyes for a brief moment, just needing a minute to not have to worry about anything. If nothing else, and despite the feeling of being out of my league here, I still felt safe.

I turned my head and opened my eyes. The first thing I saw was a stained glass window depicting the Virgin Mary with a child Jesus. I stared at the brilliant colors the coated the vicinity around the window with the help of the sun. Apart from the colors, I couldn't help but notice the soldering work in and around the window image.

Renee was into stained glass. It was only a hobby, so she never made anything big. I think the most elaborate thing she had ever made was a short Tiffany imitation lamp shade. Other than that, she made small piece that she hung throughout the house and windows. There were even some she would hang off the tree in our front yard instead of wind chimes.

Before I even realized it, one tear turned into two tears that raced down my cheek. I missed her so much. I always asked myself, even to this day, what I could have done differently. If I called home more, would I still have my parents? Would my art have taken off? Would I still have my best friend? But then again, I can't blame losing Rosalie on anyone but myself.

My body felt extremely heavy and my mind weighed a ton. Looking around for someone I may have missed, I laid down on the pew. Before I knew it, I had fallen asleep. Funny enough, it was one of the better sleeps I've had since living on the streets.

"Miss. Miss, Miss, I need to start locking up now," I heard someone say from above me. I slowly opened my eyes to see the older man from before.

"Sorry," I said, groggily. My throat was raspy and dry from sleep. "Is there a water fountain, or a bathroom with a sink around here?" I asked.

"Sure," he said, smiling at me. "Wait right here one second."

"Thanks."

He returned not three minutes later. "I forgot to put it in the fridge before, so it's not very cold but it's unopened. Here you go." He handed me an unopened bottle of water and I took it eagerly.

"Thank you so much." I took a huge gulp to relieve the scratchy feeling in my throat.

I thanked him again and left, allowing him to properly close up. Before leaving, I saw that a wall clock in the church lobby read three o'clock.

If I paced myself just right, I could make it in time to the soup kitchen. I walked with determination; I kept my head down and walked in the direction that would take me where I needed to go the fastest. As I walked I heard hushed whispers as I passed and couldn't help but think that they were talking about me, even though they had no reason to be. While I wasn't dressed beautifully, my clothing certainly didn't give anything away about me, either.

When I finally arrived at the soup kitchen, I still had about twenty minutes to spare before they started letting people in. A line had already formed despite the early time. Making my way to the back, I spotted a familiar looking man. my blood ran cold and I stopped in my tracks for a second. I sprinted the rest of the way to the back of the line. It didn't seem like he saw me and for that I was relieved.

At the back of the line, I made myself as small as possible. If he didn't see me before, I wanted to make sure he didn't see me now. Thankfully, as more people came, the more crowded the line got and I was able to hide behind bodies. Soon enough, the doors were opening and the line began moving in.

Grabbing a tray, I put everything I could on it and found a table that was fairly full. I always preferred to eat alone, or as alone as possible, but today I wanted to remain unseen. I was half way through my meal when I saw the same man. However, he saw me too and began grinning. Despite how hungry I was, I got up to throw what was left on my tray in the trash and immediately left. I began walking the few blocks toward the shelter, hoping to get a good spot in line, effectively guaranteeing me a bed. I tried ridding the horrible memories away on my walk.

When I was two blocks away, someone began walking along side me. I looked to the side and my steps faltered.

"Why'd you leave so soon?" the guy asked, still grinning. I began walking again and picked up my pace.

"Aww, don't be like that." He sped his steps to keep up with mine. "Don't tell me you're still upset with me. I didn't want to hurt you, but I had to make sure you didn't fight back. It wasn't personal, I just needed money. You know what that's like."

"Can you just please leave me alone?" I asked, but continued looking down at the sidewalk.

He sighed. "You're making a big deal out of this. Stop acting like you've never been jumped before."

"It doesn't make it any easier," I whispered.

"Whatever. We could have had some fun times, me and you. The name is Peter. Come find me when you're not so sensitive." He ran his finger down my arm before making a sudden right hand turn unto a street that I wasn't very familiar with and I couldn't be more grateful.

As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. I've been jumped too many times to count, although many of them weren't that serious. But even still, every bruise and cut that I received could have been the one to get infected and cause some serious damage. I wasn't being sensitive, just…I didn't even know.

Every time something like that happened to me, it didn't take a toll on me just physically. It always brought a flood of memories and regrets rushing back. Usually, the first person I thought of was Jane. I tried to remember how she taught me how to throw a punch, or block one. Would she be pissed if I lost this fight since she taught me better?

Then I would think of Rosalie. Was she married yet like she wanted to be? If I hadn't made the choices that I made would I be hanging out with her right now instead of lying in a gutter?

Lastly, I thought of my parents and how I had to be the biggest disappointment to them. Were they looking down at me, shaking their heads, wondering where they went wrong? If I ever met up with them again, would they shun me because their only child had become a part time prostitute?

I wish that every time I took a punch to the face or a kick to the stomach it was just the physical pain I felt, but it was always so much more.

I continued to wonder the streets and took in the sights before me, wanting to rid my thoughts of Peter. When I figured enough time had passed, I turned and headed to the direction of the shelter. I wasn't sure how cold it was supposed to be tonight, but with winter around the corner the cold temperature was almost promised.

As if I was experiencing déjà vu, I saw Peter already standing in line. However, this time he saw me almost instantly and immediately my hackles went up. Everything in me was saying that nothing good was going to come out of tonight and if I learned only one thing living on the streets, it's that I needed to follow my instincts.

Instead of stopping when I reached the back of the line, I kept on going. I would probably regret not staying in the shelter later tonight, but right now I didn't. The warehouse was usually my second option when I couldn't secure a cot at the shelter, but I needed to be alone.

I kept walking, not having a real direction. Wherever my feet carried me was where I was heading. I hadno idea how long I was walking as I became lost in my own head, but soon enough I was standing in front of an all too familiar building. I looked up to the now darkened and star lit sky and saw the high cross hovering over everyone down below. It was weird how I rarely came to this part of town and now it seemed like I couldn't stay away. Something was always bringing me back to this church

I quickly jogged up the front steps to see if the doors were unlocked. As I expected, they were locked. However, the locked doors didn't deter me. I didn't plan on breaking in or anything, but there was no way I was planning on leaving the vicinity of the church. I walked around the side of the church that I never particularly paid attention to, as I never had a reason to. There was a curved ramp to allow access to wheelchairs. But what really caught my attention was the patch of grass that was hidden by the ramp. It wasn't very big and would not give away my location easily.

I walked up the ramp and ducked between the bars to get over to the grass. Luckily, it was dry enough to not dampen my pants. I sat down and rested my back against the highest part of the ramp. I could already tell that it would not be a good night's sleep, but this was my best alternative.

The more I tried to get comfortable, the more I missed sleeping in a bed, or even a stiff, scratchy cot. But tonight I couldn't have either of those. If I didn't think that Peter would try something at the shelter than I would have gotten on line, but I just had a bad feeling. Staying at the motel wasn't an option since I had no money and I swore to myself I would never sleep with James again for a room.

The warehouse wasn't an option either tonight. While it would have provides a little warmth, there would be absolutely no privacy and I would be up half the night just making sure no one was lurking too closely to me. Even my usually safe haven behind the billboard wasn't good enough tonight.

When I finally managed to get as comfortable as I was going to get resting upon grass and concrete, I closed my eyes. I think I managed to get about fifteen minutes of sleep before paranoia got to me. My eyes flew open, scanning my surroundings and checking for anything out of the ordinary. When I felt that everything was "okay", I let myself fall back to sleep.

It was a fitful night and I hadn't expected any differently. Somehow I ended up lying on my side, my face resting against the grass. When my body couldn't take the position anymore, I sat up to slowly stand up. I stretched to help get the kinks out. Almost immediately, my stomach began growling, but that was nothing new. I never had enough food.

Standing up, I ducked under the railing again to get to the other side. Before I took a seat on the ramp, I took a look around to make sure no one was around. Inside, I knew it was disrespectful to hang out in front of the church, but logically it didn't make sense to leave. Seeing that there was no one close by, I sat crisscross and leaned against the railing. I took the paper bag out of my coat pocket and began removing the half eaten bagel.

"Bella?" I heard someone call my name. I looked around me, feeling like a deer caught in headlights with my mouth full of bagel as I searched for the person calling my name.

"Over here." I looked to my left in time to see Edward walking toward me. He seemed bundled up and warm with a plastic bag in each arm.

"What time is it? Am I late?" I asked. There was no way that it was noon already.

"No. It's only nine. What are you doing here so early?"

I shrugged, not really wanting to divulge the fact that I slept here.

"So I guess you had dinner last night," he said, pointing to the bagel I held in my hand.

"Yeah. It was a good thing I held on to this half," I responded lamely, trying to keep up with my part of this awkward conversation. He began studying me and I instantly became nervous under his stare.

"Did you sleep here last night?" he finally asked.

His question caught me off guard and I began choking on the hard dough that was in my mouth.

"Why do you ask that?" I asked when I was finally able to swallow.

"Because you have blades of grass in your hair." My hand flew up to my hair to fish out anything that was stuck. True to his word, I plucked out three blades and a twig.

He stood there awkwardly while I continued to sit and pick at the bagel. It wasn't until I heard him sigh did I look up. "Do you just want to head over to my place now? We'll get started early and finish early."

I looked to my cratered bagel, figuring it was probably best to go now. Not only would I get out of the cold, but I would probably leave in time to make it to the soup kitchen.

"Sure," I said while rewrapping my bagel.

We began walking together with some distance between us.

"So why'd you sleep outside the church last night?" he asked. I couldn't tell if he was actually curious or just trying to make conversation.

"It was the best option," I simply replied. In my peripheral, I saw him nod his head.

"Weren't you cold? It was like ten degrees last night."

I shrugged. "You get used to it," I lied. You don't get used to being cold; you just learn to endure it.

We spent the next few minutes walking in silence. Fortunately, he lived quite close to the church – about five blocks. Not to my surprise at all, we walked into a large building which housed, I would say, about a hundred condos.

"Hello, Mr. Cullen," someone in a uniform greeted Edward.

"Hey, Brady," Edward greeted back. Brady gave me a wave in which I returned very timidly.

The elevator ride up was quick, making a straight stop to the seventh floor. His apartment was directly across from the elevator.

The inside of his apartment was absolutely gorgeous; I could see myself living in a place decorated like this. The décor was white, black, and red. A white leather couch rested in the center of the living room on top of a plush black carpet. I could easily sleep on either the sofa or carpet and still be more comfortable that I would be on the motel bed.

"Give me a second to put this stuff away and then we can talk," he said as he was walking to the kitchen.

I stood in the same spot as I waited for him to return. I wanted to sit on the sofa so badly, but I was scared that I would somehow ruin it.

"Just come into the kitchen so we can talk here. I'm running kind of late already," he hollered from the next room. I furrowed my brows at no one. How could he be running late if I was already here? Was he going to blow me off or something?

Deciding it was now a non-issue, I started walking in the direction I had seen him go just moments before.

The kitchen was absolutely pristine with stainless steel appliances and see through cabinets.

And holy shit were they full! I hadn't seen so much food in a house in so long.

I walked to the island. "Can I sit?" I asked him.

"Yeah, go ahead. I got called into work so we have to make this quick," he said, texting furiously on his phone.

"I can just go and come back another time. Just tell me when and I'll meet you somewhere."

He shook his head. "No. I texted my cousin and she's gonna hang out here while I'm gone. So anyway, here's the deal. Whenever you're working here, I'll be around or Alice will, my cousin that's coming over. If neither one of us can stay then you'll have to leave and come back later," he began. He had his arms crossed over his chest while looking at me with hard eyes. I nodded in understanding.

"The stuff is set up in the guestroom where you'll be working. Try not to mess up the room with paint and stuff and definitely don't trail paint in the rest of the house. Don't show up unexpectedly." I nodded again.

"Is there anything I should know about you?" he asked. "_Health_ wise, I mean."

He seemed to be stereotyping me through and through.

"No. I don't have any diseases or anything. I get myself checked over at the free clinic every month. I can't guarantee that I'll be hygienic the whole time, but I'll try my best." I shrugged when he scrunched his face in disgust. Showering was a luxury that I probably wouldn't be partaking in any time soon.

There were always fast food bathrooms.

"Well, I think that might be it for now," he said. "Oh wait, how long do you think this is going to take you? Obviously, the faster the better."

"If you let me come a few days a week and stay for about four or five hours I's day about two or three weeks."

He thought about it. "I guess that'll work."

We remained quiet after he gave be the basic guidelines. I began looking around the kitchen at all of his amazing appliances that looked brand new and unused. I was never a great cook, but I could bake with the best of them, thanks to my grandmother Carmen, Renee's mom.

When my eyes finally rested on the sleek granite countertop I heard Edward shuffling his feet. My eyes turned to him just in time to see him snatching his wallet off the table.

"Can't be too careful," he mumbled.

I was absolutely mortified at his assumption of me. "I wouldn't steal from you," I said slowly.

"But you do steal, so what makes me different?" he asked, smugly.

"Because you learn not to bite the hand that feeds you." He shrugged but still didn't look ashamed for calling me out. He walked over to the fridge and took out a bottle of water without offering me one. I would have loved one!

"So how long are you thinking about staying today?" he asked, taking a long sip from the bottle.

"Three, maybe? I just need enough time to get to the soup kitchen by five. Do you want me to come by tomorrow?"

"Not sure," he said, looking at his watch and grumbling about how long his cousin was taking to get here. "I'll let Alice know if I'm not here by the time you leave."

There was another awkward silence that was killed by the door bell.

"Finally!" Edward grabbed his coat before racing to open the door.

He greeted and spoke with his cousin quickly before leaving. As I stood in the kitchen, I couldn't think of how mean Edward was to me. But at the same time, I couldn't be more grateful.

**AN: Thanks for reading!**

**Before I begin on the next chapter, I have a question. I really didn't want to post this story un-beta'd but I have little patience. Anyway, my question is this, should I put this story on hold while I get the chapters beta'd or post a chapter then have it beta'd? I'm cool with whatever.**

**Follow me on Twitter/Tumblr : cruiz107. On FB I'm CruizFanFiction.**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: This chapter contains sensitive material and I warn you to read with caution. I won't be going into detail, but things will be implied.**

**I think that I responded to all the reviews I received last chapter, but if I missed you, I am truly sorry. I did read them all, though.**

**All things Twilight belong to SM.**

While the two continued talking in the living room, I took it upon myself to take a seat on a stool that occupied the island. I wasn't seated for thirty seconds when I jumped off the seat, second guessing my choice. I wasn't invited to seat down and I wasn't going to wear out my welcome so soon by making assumptions. I wasn't here to get comfortable and sit around like I was visiting a friend. I was here to work and nothing else.

Another minute or two passed before I heard the door close and footsteps getting closer. Smoothing down my hair and straightening out my coat, I wanted to make a good impression on whoever was going to walk into the kitchen - it wouldn't hurt to have someone on my side.

I wanted to laugh when I saw who walked in – the same girl from the church handout. I didn't know if it was a good thing or bad thing that she was going to be watching me. Based on her bright smile, though, she didn't seem too bad.

"Hi! I'm Alice, Edward's sister from another mister," she said cheerfully. Alice began laughing loudly when she took in my confused expression. "Edward's parents and mine are extremely close; we grew up together. We say we're cousins since we kind of look alike."

"Yeah, I can see that," I said, seeing the resemblance, at least around the eyes.

"You know what?" Alice asked, excitedly. "I remember you! From St. Marks."

"Yeah, that was me. Thanks for the clothes, by the way. They're great." I gave her my best grateful smile until I saw her's falter.

"Look, about that day," Alice began. "I don't know how many times I put my foot in my mouth. I'm such an asshole, but I really didn't mean to come off as insensitive. I speak without thinking first and make a fool out of myself. I'm…" I cut her off before she could apologize.

"Don't worry about it. I understand. Water under the bridge." She looked so relieved at my words and for some reason it made me feel good about myself. It wasn't often that someone smiled because of something _I_ said.

"I never got your name."

"Bella. And it's nice to officially meet you, Alice." Alice was endearing. Whether her friendly demeanor was genuine or not, I'd take it over Edward's harshness any day.

"So I hear you're painting a picture for Edward. That's pretty cool."

I didn't know how much Edward told her so I didn't want to give away any information that he might not want her to know. "Yes. Actually, I think I should get started. I'm on a time crunch to get this finished." I gave her an apologetic smile, hoping that she was on her mind. I would even listen without saying one word. I craved stimulating, adult conversation.

"Oh, God…you're right. I'm sorry. Edward told me everything was set up in the guestroom so just call me over if you need anything."

She seemed sincere, so I was going to take a leap of faith and test the waters.

"Actually…do you think I could have some water?" I asked. She gave me a funny look which instantly made me regret asking. "You know what, forget I asked. I'm just going to start now."

After another second of silence, Alice put her palms up. "No, no, no. You can have water, or juice if you'd prefer, but didn't Edward offer you anything?" she asked, seriously.

Crap!

"Uh…yeah, he did, but I didn't want anything when I first got here, but since then my throat had gotten a little dry," I lied. I didn't want to get Edward in trouble, not that he could in his own home. But I didn't want Alice calling him out, resulting in him getting mad at me for it. It was best to paint him in the best light.

However, Alice gave me a look as if she was trying to decipher if I was lying or not. Either way, she didn't press it. "Let me see what he has in here," she said as she made the short walk to the fridge.

"He's got juice…water…soda…milk."

"Can I have a soda?" Rosalie used to tell me that I didn't have water weight, but soda weight with as much soda as I drank. I was addicted to the stuff.

"Sure, what kind?" she asked with her head still in the fridge. "Coke or Mountain Dew?"

Containing my excitement, I answered. "Mountain Dew." Mountain Dew was my absolute favorite, especially Code Red.

She grabbed two cans and handed me one. I popped the tab quickly and took a heavy pull. When I finally withdrew the can from my lips, half the can was gone and Alice was looking at me wide-eyed.

"Sorry," I mumbled, extremely embarrassed at my behavior.

"I woman after my own heart," Alice replied, a huge grin appearing before she took her own healthy chug. I couldn't help but chuckle at her unlady-like action. Not one to be outdone, she delivered a bear of a belch.

"Excuse me," she giggled. I shook my head at her antics, but couldn't help liking Alice a little more.

"Hey, I don't mean to be rude, or anything, but I should start getting to work. Thanks for the soda," I said, holding up the can.

"No problem. I actually have some homework I have to finish up also. I'll be out here if you need me."

"What are you studying" I asked. Ever since I started college, I was always curious as to what people were studying; what fields interested them enough to what to devote so much of their time to.

"I'm actually going for my Masters in special education. I have my Bachelors in literacy. What about you? Did you ever study anything?"

"When I was in school, I was an art history major," I answered simply, not wanting to get into much detail.

"Don't take this personal," she began, "but that's not a very lucrative degree. Wouldn't it be limiting?"

"Eh, I guess, but I just loved everything that had to do with art. When I choose my major, I wasn't thinking about dollar signs or how it would help me in the future. I just figured that if I'm going to be spending thousands of dollars and hours of my life studying something that it should be something that I love"

"That make sense," she mumbled, looking down to the floor. "You should probably start working now; we both have things we need to take care of." She seemed upset and I was instantly worried. Had _I_ said something to offend _her_?

Without another word, I headed for the room that was to be my work area for the next couple of weeks. The bed and furniture was pushed to the side, allowing me to work, more or less, in the center of the room. The light from the window streamed into the room and hit the canvas and easel perfectly. If I didn't know better , than I would have thought that Edward set it up that way purposefully.

The canvas looked to be about 16x20 in size. I hadn't specified a size, leaving it up to him to decide since it was his present. The easel was a surprise, though, as I had left it off my list. I didn't do it purposely, but merely forget about it.

To the right of the easel, was a small card table that held the rest of the supplies still housed in plastic bags from the store in which he purchased them. I rummaged through the bags to find the paints. I specifically asked for oil paints and hoped that's what he bought, although I would work with whatever he did purchase.

Finding the paints, I felt absolutely giddy when I saw that they were, in fact, oil paints. I opened the lid to the red bottle and took a quick sniff. I let the smell envelop me. I found that painters either liked the smell of the paint or not. Quickly remembering that thought, I walked over to the window and opened it half way to help air out the room once all the paints were opened.

Reading the covering of the canvas, I found that it was already coated with gesso, which would save a little time in this whole project. In addition, I had instructed Edward to purchase an already stretched canvas to make it easier and quicker when it came time to frame the art.

Anxious and excited to get to work, I removed my coat and hoodie to get comfortable. I was about to go and ask Alice if Edward left the picture somewhere when I had spotted it laying flat underneath the bags. Searching the bag again, I snatched up the pencil I asked for and began sketching the lines on the canvas. With the picture in my right hand and the pencil in my left, the lines began easily flowing. After looking at the picture long enough, I was able to set it down and continue from memory alone. When I was finally done, I picked the picture back up to check for any mistakes, finding that I find only slight mistakes. After rectifying the lines, I placed my pencil down and went for the bags again.

Taking everything out of the bags this time, I organized everything on the table. Before I began mixing colors, I grabbed the containers Edward purchased for water and wandered over to the kitchen.

Stepping into the kitchen, I heard what I thought was Alice crying, but I couldn't be sure. I paused for a moment to see if I heard it again. When I heard a sniffle again, it was confirmation enough that Alice was crying. It wasn't my place to, but I felt compelled to comfort her as best I could.

I walked to where she was sitting on the couch in the living room. Still not wanting to sit on Edward's couch, I sat by Alice's feet. "Hey, what's wrong?" I whispered.

She looked up to be, startled, as if she hadn't heard me. She wiped her nose with her sleeve and gave me a watery smile. "I'm alright," she lied.

"Are you sure? I mean, I know I'm not your friend or anything, but you can talk to me. I won't tell Edward if that's what you're worried about; he doesn't really talk to me anyway." I tried to sound reassuring, but I was out of practice with being the reassuring friend.

She remained silent a while before she spoke again. "I don't want to be a teacher. I like it well enough, but it's not my passion like art is for you. I love fashion, but teaching was safe. I wanted to go to fashion school, but I was scared that my mother wouldn't approve so I convinced her, and myself, that I wanted to be a teacher," she ranted. She surprised me by sinking down to the floor with me and crying on my shoulder. After my initial shock, I wrapped my arms around her, offering her what I hoped was a comforting hug.

After a few minutes, we pulled apart. "Thanks. I think that I just needed a good cry; I've been stressed lately."

"I'm glad I could help. Can I just make a suggestion?"She nodded. "Do you sew?"

"Yeah," she replied slowly, curiously.

"Why not sell your designs online? I had a friend once who sold homemade jewelry. It might help get the ball rolling in a fashion career." When she looked at me blankly I began feeling stupid and completely out of my league, dispensing advice when I was clearly no one to talk. "You know what? Don't listen to me. What do I know?" I began to get up when she grabbed my wrist.

"Bella, you're fucking brilliant," she began in a serious tone before she broke out in a smile. "I don't know why I never thought of that." She paused. "Yes, I do, but it doesn't matter now. Do you know how many times I've sketched out an idea and threw it out before it got in the way with school work?"

For the next few minutes I let her rant and rave about how she was going to start drawing once she got home and how she couldn't wait to tell her fiancé. It felt good to be involved in an adult conversation, even if it was basically one sided. I was happy to smile and nod at the appropriate times.

After about an hour, we both figured it would be a good idea if we started what we were actually supposed to do. We parted, both of us wearing smiles and feeling a lot better. I filled the container with before entering the room – my main purpose for leaving the room in the first place.

Finally I got to work. Studying the picture while tampering with the paints, I was able to mix the colors that I needed for Esme and her husband. Before I actually brought brush to canvas, I had to stop and take a breath. Painting this was a big step in an unknown direction, but I believed I was ready for it.

When I began painting, it was like I was floating in water – effortless. The brush strokes were fluid, languid. I added medium when needed, darkened or lightened colors to the get the right shade. I swished and swooshed to get the desired effect. I was in my zone and nothing around me existed. Alice could have walked in and out of the room twenty times and I wouldn't have even noticed. What did finally stop me was my painful bladder from putting off using the bathroom.

I rested the painted brush I was using in browned water. I found Alice slouching on Edward's couch watching something on TNT.

"Hey, Alice? Can I use the bathroom?"

"Oh my God, you're alive?" she asked, laughing. "Do you realize that it's been four hours since you've left that room?"

"Really?" I responded, not all that surprised at all. In my previous life, it wasn't uncommon for me to take food and soda into the studio and stay there for over ten hours. There was one time Rosalie got so mad at me that she dropped off a pillow and blanket and told me to not come back to the dorm. She felt ignored and abandoned. I cut back for a while after that, but Rosalie understood my need to be in the studio.

"You're crazy. Anyway, the bathroom is down the hall to the left."

With a quick thanks, I walked to the bathroom and took care of business. While washing my hands, I refused to look in the mirror that was right in front of me, scared of what would be staring back at me.

I went back into the room and got back to work, finding myself falling back into the same rhythm. Before I knew it, the wall clock read 3:15. Cursing at myself in my head, I quickly cleaned my work area, making sure the paints were put away properly. I walked over to the window and closed it almost all the way, only leaving it open a crack to let the room air out, but not let in a cold draft.

Before going to find Alice, I went back to the bathroom to wash my hands.

"Hey, Alice," I called out while putting my coat back on. "When Edward comes home tell him that-" I stopped mid-sentence when I saw both Alice and Edward sitting at the kitchen island, eating Chinese food.

"Tell Edward what?" Edward said as he popped a piece of broccoli in his mouth.

"Sorry, I didn't know you were here," I mumbled. " I'm done for the day and I have to head out," I answered, never taking my eyes off all the containers of food laid out.

"Why are you in such a hurry? Stay awhile," Alice offered.

I shook my head. "I can't; I have to get back downtown by five." I turned to Edward. "Should I come back tomorrow, or does that not work for you?"

"I'm always busy, Bella. No day is ever really "good" for me, but I should be here tomorrow. I guess we can try for noon again."

"Sure. It was great meeting you, Alice. I'll see you around." I waved quickly and turned to leave before I was caught drooling from the aroma floating in the air.

"Bella," Edward said in a bored voice. I turned to him. "Sit. There's a container here for you so you don't need to be in such a hurry," he said, smirking knowingly, condescendingly.

"Thanks," I mumbled as I began walking back to where they were both sitting. "Can I?" I asked, pointing to the empty stool that was the farthest away from them. When I got a shrug from Edward, I finally sat but never removed my coat. "Thanks."

"Here you go. I didn't know what you'd like so I just went with the safe choice and told Edward to get you chicken and broccoli," Alice said, passing over a plastic tray that held the chicken, broccoli, and some white rice. "Is that okay?"

"It's perfect. Thanks." She could have gotten me a fish eggroll and I would have been glad, despite the fact that I was never a fan of sea food.

I tried to contain myself and not rip open the lid even though everything in me wanted to so badly. My preference, when ordering Chinese food, was pork fried rice with eggs, but chicken and broccoli was always second. When the lid was finally off and I had torn a plastic off the fork and napkin, I was quick to dig into my food. I was doing pretty good, acting more civilized than I really was, up until that point. When the rice and sauce mixture hit my tongue, I moaned around the fork that was still in my mouth. With my eyes closed, I began chewing on the salty heaven that was in my mouth. Rice never tasted so good.

It wasn't until I opened my eyes to take another forkful, did I realize that it was quiet around me. Edward and Alice were staring at me, slack jawed and wide-eyed. I stilled all movements, scared to move an inch in fear that it would set off a round of laughter or insults.

"I'm so sorry," I apologized. I could feel the heat of my cheeks that stemmed from the insurmountable embarrassment I felt. I shot out of my seat and bolted for the door. I could hear Alice calling after me which only spurred me to go faster. I wanted these people to like me, not just tolerate me, and I made a huge jackass out of myself.

Opting to take the stairs instead of the elevator, I could feel the wetness of tears that began to fall. I didn't know how I was supposed to face them tomorrow, if I did see them tomorrow since Edward never confirmed that he wanted me there.

The only good thing that I could think about was that I hadn't wasted too much time so I could still make it to the soup kitchen in time – I would just have to wait a little longer.

I was drained, both psychical and mentally when I finally reached my destination. The doors were already open and people were already filing in. I went to the back of the line and had to wait twenty minute before I was able to grab a tray for my food. There was some kind of meat on the menu tonight, maybe Salisbury steak, mixed vegetables, and a fruit cup. It certainly wasn't the Chinese food I had a bite of before, but it was something.

I ate my food slowly, not having the energy to rush. I remained quiet and unobservant of those around me, which was dumb on my part. I felt eyes on me, but that was nothing new. It wasn't until I was dumping my garbage did I feel someone breathing down my neck. I turned to see Peter standing only feet away.

"What do you want?" I stammered.

"Why so nervous?" he chuckled. "I just wanted to know if you were getting in line at the shelter tonight?"

"Yeah," I replied, unsure of where he was going with this.

"I guess I'll see you later then." He smiled and walked off. Something didn't feel right, but I was too tired to think about it. All I wanted was to be able to close my eyes and have this day end.

After what felt like hours upon hours, I was finally tucked into a scratchy blanket on a thin mattress. However, it still beat sleeping outside in this cold weather. I was able to fall asleep quickly despite all the noise of those around me talking and settling in. I did take the time to see if Peter was around, but didn't see him anywhere. I didn't know how long I was sleeping when I was woken up with a start. There was a massive amount of weight pinning me down and a hand covering my mouth. Staring directly down at me was Peter with diluted eyes that look crazed. He was on something, that much I could tell. I tried fighting him off of me to no avail.

"This is what you thought I was going to do the other time, right?" he whispered in my ear. I tried shouting behind his hand, hoping to wake someone up, but he clamped down harder.

"If you so much as make another peep, I'll kill you. No one will miss you – people like us aren't missed."

All the fight I had in me flew out the window with his words. He was right- he could kill me right now and no one would care. I would be one less person the government had to feed and shelter on the taxpayers dollar. A part of me wanted to scream even louder, to see if he would actually kill me. The only reason why I didn't was because if I was going to die, I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of being my murder.

"Good girl. Now if you keep quiet, this'll be quick."

And it was. I laid there and took everything he forced upon me. I was proud of myself when I was able to hold back the tears and bile that wanted to come up.

"Thanks, doll, I needed that." When he was down, he stumbled off me and continued into the darkness. I lay there, motionless, trying to process what just happened. I heard a shuffling of material very close by. I turned my head to the right and saw an elderly lady looking back at me with sad eyes. She saw what just happened. I couldn't blame her for not intervening, but I hoped that she hadn't seen the whole thing. It was every man for himself out here, so I didn't really expect anyone to stick their neck out for me

I stood awake the rest of the night, stone still, scared to make any noise in fear of attracting Peter's attention again, even though it was probably unlikely. When the first signs of the sun peaked through the windows, I scrambled out of bed. I put my shoes back on and headed for the exit.

Getting a head start to my day, I headed toward the church. If I was going to Edward's today, I would already be there by noon. Throwing my hands in my pocket, I felt something crinkle at my touch. I pulled out a worn paper bag and remembered that I still had some of the bagel left. I tired squeezing it with two fingers but it was rock hard and inedible. With regret, I threw it in the first garbage can I passed. It felt like a sin to let it go.

The rest of the walk was spent looking down and avoiding eye contact with everyone. I tried ignoring the stiffness in my jaw, but it was hard. If I clenched my jaw, the pain would double before it subsided. There was probably a mark left over from last night. Not only that, my thighs were sore also, which made me walk a little slower.

When I arrived in front of the church I went to my little hiding spot. It wasn't until I was able to finally sit and have a moment alone did I feel the tiniest bit relieved. I was cold and in pain, but I was okay and still alive. I brought my knees up to my chest and rest my head against them. Even though I was alone, I still refused to cry over Peter's action.

In the fetal position, I rested on the cold, hard ground. My mind wandered to things that I never let it go to usually. My parents and Rosalie sailed through my mind and how big of a disappointment I was to the three of them. If I had only been stronger, better equipped to deal with the shit life threw me, than I wouldn't be lying here right now.

My eyes became heavy and I could feel myself falling asleep. When I opened my eyes again, I could tell that some time had passed, but I couldn't tell how much. I sat up and swiped at my hair to get rid of any debris that might have gotten caught in my rat's nest.

Deciding that I needed to leave my little hiding spot, I began walking in the direction that Edward lived. Because he didn't live far, the walk wasn't long at all. It would have been even shorter had I been able to walk without wincing.

I stayed across the street from his building, not wanting to get neither him nor me in trouble for loitering. After about another hour of waiting around, Edward emerged wearing workout clothing. I watched him stretch and run off. He looked worry-free with ear buds in his ear and relaxed face muscles.

I spotted him rounding the corner about forty minutes later. I crossed the street so I could find out whether he wanted me to work on his painting or not. When he was close enough, I saw he was extremely sweaty, despite the cold weather.

I waited by the front door and saw him come to a sudden stop when he saw me. He looked upset. He grabbed me by my arm forcefully and guided both of us to the elevator. I was scared to utter a word or question his actions. Even in the elevator ride up, I remained silent.

It wasn't until we were securely in his apartment did he finally speak.

"What happened to your face?" he asked, angrily.

I didn't know how to answer him without fearing that however I did, would upset him even more. Though, logically I realized that I did nothing wrong, the intensity in his eyes made me feel otherwise.

"Nothing happened," I said, trying to dismiss his concern. When his eyes wouldn't waver, I offered more. "I got into a fight last night."

"You're full of shit, but if you don't want to tell me I'm not going fishing for answers."

An awkward silence followed neither one of us willing to back down.

"So what are you doing here anyway?"

"I didn't know if you wanted me to work on the painting today, so I was hoping to catch you to find out what you want to do. But if you're busy…" I trailed off, allowing him to send me on my way if I wasn't welcome today.

"That's fine and everything, but it's only ten in the morning. I said noon."

"Sorry. I wasn't sure what time it was. If you want me to leave and come back I will. Or if you want me to come back another day, that's fine, too. I actually got a lot more done yesterday than I planned."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, seeming a little excited. "How much longer do you think you'll need?"

"Well, maybe about two more visits – depending how many hours I spent during each visit."

He nodded slowly, as if he was thinking over my words. However, he quickly changed the subject.

"So why'd you leave so abruptly yesterday?" His serious, inquisitive eyes felt like they were burning a hole in my forehead as he waited for my answer.

"I wasn't feeling well," I somewhat lied. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he didn't believe me.

"Well anyway, I have your tray in the fridge if you want it later," he replied nonchalantly. "I don't know how good it'll be now, but it should be good enough."

In my head I was jumping up and down, squealing, at the thought of food, _for me_, sitting in his fridge. Day old or not, I knew it was still going to taste amazing.

"Thanks," I replied calmly, counting down the hours until it would be considered acceptable to eat Chinese. Of course, if I were alone, my head would have been digging through the fridge for the tray already.

"So anyway," he spoke up after a silent minute, "you can get to work if you're ready. I'll be here all day, so if you need anything just give me a holler."

"Thanks, Edward," I mumbled. I wasted no time in getting to my designated work area. It was easy to pick up where I left off. About an hour into working, I began feeling light-headed and dizzy. I chalked it up to being hungry. I worked up the courage to ask Edward for the food that was being held for me.

I walked into the living room to find Edward typing away at his computer hat sat in his lap.

"Hey Edward?" I called out hoping to get his attention. He looked up, startled, obviously not hearing me when I came in.

"Yeah?" he replied, going back to his typing.

"Can I have that food now?" I asked.

"Now?" He looked at his watch. "It's not even 11:30."

"Yeah, I know, but I'm not feeling so well. I think I should eat something."

"Alright. Give me a second and I'll heat it up for you."

I walked to the kitchen in front of him. I watched as he put the food on a ceramic plate and placed it in the microwave. The minute and a half that the plate rotated around was the longest minute and a half ever. When the bell finally sounded, I had to contain the urge I had to yank the plate out of Edward's hand.

"Thanks a lot," I said as he placed the plate in front of me. I looked up and gave him an appreciative smile. He looked at me blankly, before frowning and turning to leave.

And like every other time, the rejection hurt a little more.

Dispelling all the hurt and thoughts of Edward, I picked up the fork he stuck in the food and began eating. I was right – it was delicious. However, after a few bites I was already full. Not wanting to waste the food, I grabbed the plastic tray from where it lay on top of the rest of the trash in his garbage bin. I rinsed it out and scraped all the food back into it and put it back in the fridge.

Though it was not a lot of work, it took a lot out of me. So much so, that not even painting appealed to me at the moment. All I wanted to do was sleep. And as much as I hated to do it, I had to ask Edward if he minded if I left early.

Walking back into the living room, Edward was just as I found him last time. Even while he was in the comfort of his own home, he looked overworked and stressed. However, his presence commanded authority even when no one was around to bark orders to.

"Edward?"

"Hmm," he replied, not even looking up from his laptop.

"If you don't mind, I think I'm going to take off. I'm just not feeling well right now," I explained. He stopped typing and finally looked at me.

"What's wrong?" I knew I was mistaken, but to my ears he sounded concerned.

"Nothing serious. Just sore and tired." I didn't want to get into how I really felt, seeing as it really didn't matter. He was either going to let me leave, or not. Besides, I _was_ sore and tired.

Like he did before, he looked at me as if he was trying to gauge whether I was lying or not. I don't know what he thought he saw, but he relented.

"Fine. Do you need a ride anywhere?" To say I was shocked was an understatement. I had never expected him to offer me a ride anywhere. This was probably one of the nicest things he's done for me.

"If it's not too much trouble, then yes, a ride would be great." Normally, I wouldn't have accepted a ride from him, but I really wasn't feeling well and I had no idea how long it would take me to get back downtown.

"Let me just get my coat." With that, he placed his laptop down and walked over to the hallway closet and retrieved his parka. Not ten minutes later, we were on the road heading back to "my" part of town. Unfortunately, I wasn't feeling any better. I tried to think of all my option, but sadly only one of them seemed decent enough for today. I needed money and a room from James.

If I wasn't desperate, I would have gone behind the billboard or the warehouse for a few hours of sleep, but I knew neither would suffice. I needed an actually bed.

"Where, exactly, am I dropping you off?" Edward asked, breaking me from thoughts. I gave him the address of the shelter as a drop off point. With the help of his fancy GPS, he found the location quick enough.

"Thanks for the ride. I appreciate it," I said, smiling timidly at him. Instead of looking at me, he began looking out the windshield at the neighborhood. "Do you want me to work on the painting tomorrow?" I went on, trying to gain back his attention. I was the critical look in his eyes and I knew it was just a matter of time he began judging me more harshly than he already has, based on where I "lived".

"Yeah, sure. I'll be home again tomorrow. We'll try for noon again; I'll meet you at the church." Still, he wasn't looking at me, but at everything around us outside the car.

I didn't bother responding, opting to just get out of the car. Without looking back, I began walking toward Elliott, hoping to make enough money to buy me a room for the rest of the day and night. Before I reached the corner, I spotted Peter rounding it. I froze in my tracks. My mind was telling me to run the other way, but my legs weren't listening. When he finally spotted me, a smirk crossed his face.

"Well, hello there. You didn't even say good-bye this morning. I was hurt," I whispered in my ear when he was close enough. My whole body became rigid while he was in close proximity. "I was hoping for a repeat performance later. Maybe this time you'll play along."

Something clicked and I was finally able to move again. Faster than I thought, I pushed passed Peter and began running. I needed to get as far away from him as I could. It wasn't until my head wouldn't stop spinning and my lungs were burning, that I finally stopped running, which happened when I finally reached Elliott.

I leaned against a building to catch my breath. When I was able to breathe easier, I walked to the first parked car, on the south side of the block that I saw. There seemed to be an unwritten rule that if a guy was looking for a "date", but didn't want to make their actions look suspicious, they parked on at certain side of the street. This method worked pretty well since not many cars parked on the deserted street block.

When I approached the car, the window rolled down instantly. I bent down to look into the car.

"Hi," I greeted the stranger in my best alluring voice. "Is there anything I can do to "help" you?" I asked seductively, smiling sweetly at him.

"I hope so. How much to suck my dick?"

"Thirty," I answered, raising my rate on the spot.

"Jeez! What the fuck are you, a goddamn Hoover vacuum? That's a lot of money for a blow job."

I didn't respond, instead, waiting for him to either agree or not so I could move on. I still felt sick and just wanted to sleep at this point. I wanted to get this over already. When he saw that I wasn't budging on my price, he agreed.

"Fine. Just get in the car already."

When I heard the sound of the doors unlock, I grabbed for the handle to open the door. However, before I could stick one foot in, I felt a strong grip on my bicep preventing me from entering the car. Fear ripped through me, as I thought Peter had followed me here. However, I was proven wrong when I looked into Edward's furious eyes.

**AN: Thanks for reading!**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: The response for the last chapter was amazing. I got to reply to some reviews, but not all and I apologize for that. I try to respond to them as soon as I get them, bc if I don't it's hard to make time to. And I know I say this every time, but I really do read them all. And the ones I didn't respond to are still sitting in my inbox. Thanks again.**

**Also, I just want to clear some things up from the last chapter. First, Bella will not become pregnant w/ Peter's child. In a previous chapter, it states that she had an IUD inserted before she became homeless. Those are good for 5 years and Bella has been on the streets for roughly 3. Second, Elliott is actually the name of the street, not the guy. It's actually a real street in my city, that has a dangerous reputation.**

**There is an important AN on the bottom, so please read. **

**All things Twi belong to SM. Enjoy!**

I was practically dragged to Edward's car that was parked across the street. He kept muttering to himself angrily and I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't just a little bit afraid at the moment. But more than anything, I was pissed.

Edward all but tossed me in the car before he shut the door and walked around to the driver's side. I thought he was going to drive away somewhere, but surprised me when he punched the steering wheel, honking the horn in the process.

"What the hell, Edward? What the fuck was that about?" I asked, no longer able to control my anger. Every time he put me down, made horrible assumptions about me, I took it. However, I just couldn't handle it today. I was tired and weak and just not in the mood to take any of his hostility. If he wanted me to stay longer and work on the painting he should have said so. I would have taken a break then kept working.

"_You_ tell _me_ what the fuck that was about?" he screamed back at me. "Were you about to fuck that guy?"

"No, Edward, I wasn't going to fuck him – just suck his dick. Does that make you feel better?" I screamed right back. Surprisingly, it felt awesome to yell at him. It was like finally letting him have it for treating me like shit all this time.

When he didn't speak and continued to look at me disgustedly, I went on. "Since you've met me, you've done nothing but talk down to me and make assumptions about me. You've basically called me dirty, a drug addict, alcoholic, and a thief. You want to know what my vice is? Well you found out – I'm a whore. I like to eat every once and awhile and sleep on a bed when I can, so I fuck people for money." I was out of breath when I was finally done, but I also felt so much better. It was like a huge weight off my shoulders.

Edward groaned loudly, rubbing his eyes at the same time. He still seemed upset, but he was much calmer.

"Where you seriously go to suck that guy's dick for money?" he asked, almost whispering dejectedly.

His defeated tone of voice helped to level my own anger.

"Yes. I need money."

"What could you need money so badly that you'd result to selling sex?" Since he wasn't looking at me, but out the windshield, I rolled my eyes at him. I wanted to reply with some sarcastic retort but I knew that he would never understand.

"I told you before. I don't feel well and I just want to sleep, but I don't have any money for a room – a bed. Not by the church, behind a billboard, or the warehouse. A real bed." I explained slowly, as if he were a child. I was tired, my head was pounding, my stomach began rumbling, and I just wanted to be left alone. I felt drained and utterly defeated.

Edward remained silent and I couldn't be more grateful. I rested my head against the back of my seat and could quickly feel myself falling asleep. Within a few short minutes, I had managed to fall asleep only to be startled awake by the feeling that I was being watched. I turned to see Edward staring at me.

"Sorry," I said, too tired to actually be sorry. "If we're done here, I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow." I reached for the handle only to have Edward lock the door before I could open it.

"Wait," he said. "Just…just come back home with me. You can rest in the guestroom," he offered. I was actually touched by his offer, although I couldn't accept it.

"That's really nice of you, Edward, but the paint fumes aren't going to help with my headache. Besides, we both know that you don't want me there more than I need to be. I appreciate the offer, though." I smiled at him, hoping that he realized that I was no longer angry and truly appreciative.

"I have another guestroom that you can sleep in. I'll feel better about myself if you'd just accept."

I should be surprised that the only reason he offered up his extra guestroom was to make himself feel less guilty, but I wasn't. I didn't want to flat out call him selfish, but he wasn't far from it. Even still though, he was offering me a bed that I didn't have to do anything for. Plus, I'm sure it was a hell of a lot more comfortable.

My pride was a weird thing. I wanted to refuse Edward's offer, showing him that I didn't need his help after he pissed me off so badly. But at the same time, I wanted to scream yes at the top of my lungs. I've said it before, but there was something about Edward that always made me second guess myself. Swallowing the small of pride I had, I accepted Edward's offer. Although, my growing feeling of nausea helped my decision-making process.

"Sure. That'd be great."

Without another word, he started the car and made a U-turn out of Elliott Street. As I saw the street get further and further away in the side mirror, I wondered how long it would be until I came back. Surely, it would only be a matter of hours.

Thankfully, the car ride was silent. Occasionally, I would see Edward sneaking a glance at me from the corner of his eye. I don't know what was going through his mind, or what he thought I would do, but I was too tired to really care. Every so often, despite the bumpy ride, I would catch myself before my head could lull to the side.

He pulled into an underground parking garage that I had never noticed before. Still remaining quiet, we left the car and walked over to the elevator. It wasn't until we were already ascending the floors that Edward finally spoke.

"How are you feeling?" It was one of the rare times that he spoke to me with no harshness in his voice.

"Not good," I said, shrugging. "My head is still pounding, I feel dizzy and weak, and my stomach hurts but I don't know if it's because I'm hungry or something else." He nodded but didn't say anything else.

Upon entering his apartment, he removed his jacket and throw is keys in a bowl that what sitting on a table by the door. I stood near the entrance awkwardly, not sure as to what I should do. Yes, he did say that I could sleep in his guestroom, but I wasn't going to just waltz around like I was an actually guest in his home.

"Take your coat off; stay awhile," Edward said sarcastically as he passed me en route to the kitchen. I began to pull down the zipper. Not sure what to do about my coat, I clung to it like a lifeline. I felt as if this was the first time I had ever been here, but I guess in a way it kind of was. At this moment, I wasn't here to work on the painting, but for another completely different reason.

Edward walked toward me and went for my coat. Surprised by his action, I gripped it tighter, unsure of what his intentions were.

"Calm down. I'm just going to hang up your coat." Embarrassed by my assumption, I handed him my coat shyly.

"The extra guestroom is across the hall from the one you work in. Feel free to head in there whenever," he said, talking from inside the coat closet.

"Thanks," I mumbled, relieved to be out of his presence.

The guestroom just looked like the one I worked in, except the furniture was set in place and not moved to the side. The bed looked like a dream. There were two full looking pillows and a comforter and spread that could have come straight from a showroom.

I sat on the recliner that was placed in the corner and began removing my shoes, all the while continuing to stare at the bed. I wanted to lock the door, but being that this wasn't my room, I didn't. Even with a closed but not locked door, it was still a lot more privacy than I usually got.

I removed my socks and stuck them inside my shoes. I pulled my hoodie over my head and placed it on the chair. My jeans came off next. Because he had good heat throughout the apartment, I was okay with just a shirt and underwear. Being as comfortable as I was going to get, I climbed into bed.

As corny as it sounds, it felt like I was lying on a cloud. The pillow was extremely puffy, as if it had never been used, and the comforter was warm and thick. The mattress was so soft. I didn't know what kind of mattress it was, pillow top or memory foam, but I was immediately in love and hoped one day I could have a mattress like this. Before I even realized it was coming, I sighed in contentment.

Sleep found me easily. I woke up not remembering my dream, but that was always better than remembering the bad ones. I wasn't ready to wake up, but I wasn't sure how long Edward was allowing me to stay. While I didn't feel a hundred percent better, I still felt better than I did this morning.

I turned to read the alarm clock on the nightstand beside the bed. Reading 5:45 PM, I shot out of the bed. When I arrived back at Edward's apartment is was just about noon. I hadn't slept so many hours, uninterrupted in so, so long. Frantically, I got redressed, not caring how bad I may have looked having just woken up, and made the bed as neatly as I could. I rushed to the living room, but came to a screeching halt when I saw Edward was sitting on his couch with a female. I guess they heard me which caused them both to turn and look at me. I was frozen, not sure whether to introduce myself or not.

"Whose this?" the female asked, not looking the tiniest bit happy.

"Tanya…this is the maid," Edward lied smoothly. As stupid as it seemed, I thought that Edward and I had made a slight step forward. However, the fact that he wouldn't truthfully let Tanya know who I was proved, yet again, how stupid I was.

"Hi," I greeted Tanya who scoffed back at me. "Edward, I'm-" I was cut off by Tanya.

"Edward? Since when does the help refer to you as Edward and not Mr. Cullen?" Edward looked like a deer caught in headlights and, for some unknown reason, I felt bad for him.

"Just…can you just wait in the room; we have to talk," Edward said to me. It was my turn to be caught off guard. I was more than happy to leave if he needed his privacy with, who I presumed was his girlfriend.

"Sure, Mr. Cullen," I agreed quietly. I felt more than awkward standing there, so it was a relief to go anywhere else. Because I was still feeling slightly off, I went back to the room I slept in as opposed to the work room to avoid any lingering fumes or smells from the paint.

Opting for the recliner while I waited, I sat down and removed my coat. I began replaying the scene from just a few minutes ago. Now that it was over with, I could smile to myself at the ridiculousness of it all. If I was someone on Edward's level, or any level at that, my presence would have looked suspicious. But even a stranger could tell that I was no one of importance.

As I continuously replayed everything, something occurred to me. The name Cullen sounded so familiar to me. I wasn't sure if I had a friend with that last name or just came across someone with that same name. Something told me that I had heard that name before.

As my eyes wandered around the room, taking in more of the finer details that I hadn't bothered with before, they landed on the bed that I was occupying not ten minutes before. Although it wasn't as neatly made as when I first tucked myself in, it still looked so inviting. Just looking at it was making me sleepy.

I took off my shoes again and curled up on the recliner to get comfortable and rest my eyes. Despite the tight position, I was more than comfy. I could tell I was falling asleep and let myself do it. I didn't know how long Edward was going to keep me waiting, and since I didn't know where I would be sleeping tonight, I was going to take advantage.

I heard my name being called, but I couldn't decipher if I was still dreaming or if someone was really calling my name. After hearing my name a fourth time, I opened one eye. Edward was leaning in close, trying to wake me up. I sat up straight and stretched out my cramped muscles.

"Sorry," I said while letting out a long yawn.

"No problem. I've been trying to wake you up for ten minutes now."

Before he could mention what happened before and make things awkward again, I decided it was a good time to leave. "Thanks for everything. I'm going to get out of your hair now."

"No! Just wait." He paused for a moment before continuing. "I'm sorry about all that out there," he said, using his head to point to the door. I stopped him before he could go on.

"Don't worry about it – it was my fault. I shouldn't have rushed through your apartment like I owned the place. But you should have told me you wanted me to call you Mr. Cullen; I would have." I was beginning to feel uncomfortable and just wanted to leave. "Look, I've probably caused trouble for you, so I should leave." I made to get up, but he stopped me yet again.

"No. I ordered pizza and it should be here soon. Besides, I have to talk to you about something."

Before I could respond, the doorbell rang. "That's the pizza. Meet me in the kitchen," he said, getting up to answer the door. I was about to agree but I suddenly remembered Tanya.

"I'll leave if you want to have dinner with Tanya. It's no big deal."

"She's not here," he replied simply and left without another word. I did as he said and met him in the kitchen, standing at the island awkwardly. Two minutes later, he entered with some of the best smelling pizza I had ever smelt. He placed the cardboard box on the counter then fished out two plates. After we each had a slice of extra cheese pizza he went into the fridge and grabbed two cans of soda.

"Can I sit?" I asked, not wanting to be rude again.

"You know, you don't have to ask me every time you want to sit down. If you want to sit, sit," he replied and much to my surprise, not condescendingly at all.

"Thanks," I said while bringing the stool out. I brought my plate closer to me and began eating. The extra cheese made the pizza thicker, but it was absolutely delicious. I couldn't even remember the last time I had real pizza. Every so often, the soup kitchen would throw us a bone and serve frozen pizza, but it didn't even compare. This time around, I remembered where I was and kept silent as I chewed.

"Do you want to talk now?" I asked when I swallowed my first bite. I took a sip from my can as I waited for his reply.

"Not right now. We'll talk in the living room when we're done." I nodded and kept eating. However, all I could think about was what he could possible need to talk with me about. In the end, I figured it could only be one of two things – what happened earlier or the painting.

I had a total of two slices. I was stuffed and feeling bloated…and I absolutely loved it. I could feel myself easily falling into a food coma. I looked at Edward who was looking back at me, smiling, and it made my heart flutter. It was the first time I had ever seen him smile…and at me no less. I was sure this day would never come.

"You're full, aren't you?" He chuckled and I nodded and grinned while fighting to keep a belch in. "It looks good on you," he said so low. I don't think he meant for me to hear it, but I did and I could just imagine the blush rising in my cheeks.

"Do you think you're coherent enough to talk or has the greasy food rendered you useless?" he asked, still wearing a smile and I couldn't help but smile back.

"Yeah, I'm good…I think." My stomach hurt but it was a feeling that I would endure any day. Plus, at this rate, I would be okay if I didn't eat tomorrow, which was always likely.

I followed Edward into the living room. "Before you ask, yes, you can have a sit," he said, smirking. I rolled my eyes, but grinned, too.

He waited until I was comfortable before he began. "I'm not sure where to start so bear with me." I nodded for him to go on.

"I was talking to Alice," he started and my eyes went wide. I tried to recall anything I may have said to her that she felt the need to tell Edward. "Calm down. I can practically hear your heart beat from here." He waited a second before he started talking again. "Anyway, Alice brought it to my attention that I'm acting like an asshole to you, although she didn't need to. I already knew this." He had my attention before, but this time he _really_ had my attention.

"I guess I should start off by apologizing. I know how I've treated you and it was wrong of me. I know it's not an excuse, but I've been so stressed lately and it's easier to be a dick than it is to be nice – in my opinion, at least. I guess it's my way of coping… I dunno. Work has been a nightmare recently. I'm writing a proposal for a grant I'm trying to get and it's just not coming at right. And then there's my brother and the rest of my family. Tanya," he groaned out her name.

"Again, let me just say I'm really sorry about that," I apologized once again.

He shook his head. "No, don't. There's nothing to apologize for. I didn't know she was coming over and I didn't want to wake you. I was hoping I could deal with her before you woke up, but it obviously didn't work out like that." He shrugged.

"You don't have to answer, but why did you tell her that I was the maid?"

He groaned and I immediately felt stupid for over-stepping my bounds. "Do you remember the second time I bumped into you? When we had the bagels?" he asked. It felt like weeks ago, but it was only a few days back. I nodded. "That guy that was supposed to do the painting for me is Tanya's cousin. I didn't want to get into it with her about not using her cousin so I told her that I scrapped the idea all together. It wasn't personal," he explained.

"Your girlfriend is really pretty," I commented, not knowing what else to say.

"Ex…ex-girlfriend," he corrected.

"Oh. Well, I'm sorry to hear that."

"Don't. I was going to break up with her, just not today. When you're happier to be away from your girlfriend than you are when you're together then it's time to call it quits."

"I guess that would be a good indicator," I chuckled, but recovered quickly. "Look Edward, as much as I appreciate you explaining all this to me, it's not necessary. You don't owe me an explanation…"

"We'll just have to agree to disagree, but can I just ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Why? Why do you let me treat you so horribly?" He was almost whispering and his voice was full of nothing but regret and curiosity.

I wish the answer to his question was something that I had to think about, but I already knew.

"At first, when I splashed you with the coffee, you had every right to be mad at me so I didn't think twice about it. And really, it kind of motivated me to prove you wrong about me. But then, I endured your hostility because someone finally needed – it's a good feeling. I wake up every day a no body, but for a little while, someone is expecting be to be great…someone is expecting _me_."

It was silent and I could help but feel that I had, again, said something that I shouldn't have said. Edward coughed to clear his throat.

"Um," his voice was raspy. "There's just one more thing. It's up to you if you want, while you're working on the painting you can stay here. You can stay in the extra guest room you napped in or the one you work in, or even the couch. It's up to you. What do you say?" His eyes were pleading with me to agree.

And me? I was stunned. This was the farthest thing from my mind. In fact, it never even occurred to me. However, it wasn't something I had to think hard about, especially when I thought about the wonderful comforter that was waiting for me in the next room to cuddle with.

"I'd like that," I replied simply, though inside I was more than delighted.

"There are going to be some rules, though," he said, sternly. "First, you still won't be left alone. No offenses, but you still are a stranger after all." I nodded, since I could understand his thinking. "Secondly, NO prostituting while you're staying here – it's a health thing. Lastly, no guest."

His rules would be easy to follow, especially his third one. After Jane, and with the exception of Marcus, I didn't befriend anyone. Having friends and being homeless didn't go well together.

"Is that okay with you?" he asked when I didn't immediately reply.

"Sorry. That's fine."

"Great! I guess when the paintings done, we'll just go from there." I knew what he really wanted to say – when the painting was done I could be on my way.

An awkward silence followed – neither of us sure what to do next. Usually this would be the part where he would have some rude, sarcastic comment or I would just leave. Since neither of those things was going to happen we were at a standstill. I decided to be the brave one and go first.

"Would it be okay if I took a shower?" I asked, not completely sure he wouldn't refuse me. I didn't know about him, but showering was a big deal to me.

"Um…," he hesitated.

"That's okay, just figured I'd ask," I replied, letting him off the hook. I thought he might so no so I wasn't even that upset.

"No, it's not that you can't, but you don't have any clothes to change into and I don't think I have anything that'll fit you."

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that. I always put the same clothes back on," I answered, relieved that he didn't say no. However, the look of disgust quickly overtook the feeling of relief.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but doesn't that defeat the purpose of a shower?" he asked like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I mean, I guess, but I rarely have a choice. You get used to it," I shrugged.

"How about I find something that you might fit into? I'm going to go out on a limb and say that you don't have extra underwear." Embarrassed, I shook my head no. "I'll improvise." With that, he was off the couch and heading to what I assumed was his own room. He returned a few minutes later with some clothes in hand.

"So I have an old t-shirt that's a little snug so that might fit okay. Some boxers that you could use as underwear, and my smallest pair of sweats." He held everything up to show me as he told me about them. "And if you want, you can leave your clothes outside the bathroom door and I'll throw them in the wash."

His generosity stunned me into shock. I never would have imagined Edward doing something so nice for me – someone I still wasn't so sure he liked more than tolerated. He was going above and beyond tonight.

I could feel my throat tighten. "Thanks. That would be great." I smiled. I stood to grab the clothes in his hand. I was too embarrassed by my over need to cry, so I kept my eyes down casted and mumbled a thanks.

I placed the clothes on top of the toilet seat that was close to the tub and turned the hot water on full blast. I got undressed quickly and wrapped a towel around myself. I neatly folded the clothes I had just removed, but debated on handing over my underwear. I contemplated just washing them in the sink, but eventually just laid them between my jeans and shirt. This would probably be my only chance to get the really washed. I opened the bathroom door just wide enough to allow me to stick a hand through and put the close on the floor.

Returning to the tub, I found that the water was actually hot, not lukewarm or tolerable, but hot. I even had to turn the cold water on a little so I wouldn't scold myself. Excited to shower, I dropped the towel and stepped into the tub.

Holy shit was it incredible!

I stood under the spray and let the water hit every part of my body while I turned in a circle. It felt absolutely amazing. It made _me_ feel amazing. Eventually, I stopped turning but continued to stand directly under the shower head, letting the water rain on me. It helped smooth the aches and pains Peter caused. While they didn't hurt as much anymore, they were still there.

I felt moisture on my face that had nothing to do with the shower water. Finally, I was crying tears of joy. This small act of kindness from Edward was the break I needed. I knew it was only temporary, but for the next few days I didn't have to worry where I would be sleeping, or running into Peter. I didn't have to make the long journey to meet Edward by the church or wonder what time it was. I wouldn't have to race out of here to make it to the soup kitchen on time. I would leave here with clean clothes and hopefully one more shower. Even if after everything was said and done, and he turned me away and act like he never met me if we were to cross paths on the street again, I would always be grateful for this small reprieve of my daily life that he has given me.

I don't know how long I stood under the water, just thinking and being happy, but when I saw my hands they were completely wrinkled and I hadn't even washed up. There was a corner shelf inside the shower that held any contents I would need. Surprisingly, there was a fair amount of female products scattered about on different shelves. I quickly thought of Tanya and figured that these belonged to her. Hoping that Edward wouldn't mind, I grabbed the shampoo first and began thoroughly scrubbing my scalp. I washed it out of my hair then reached for the conditioner. I let it sit as I used the body wash. I scrubbed until some parts turned pink. Something I spotted that was hidden behind a bottle caught my attention. Resting by itself was a package of disposable razors. I looked down to my legs and then to my armpits. It had been over a month that I had the opportunity to shave. Again, hoping Edward wouldn't be upset, I grabbed a razor and began shaving. I started with my legs and finished with my armpits. Back in college, I mastered the art of shaving in ten minutes.

After I was a lot less hairy, I washed the conditioner out of my hair. I turned the water off, which remained hot the whole time, and stepped out onto the rug that waited just outside the tub. I grabbed the thick blue towel and began drying off. Even the towel felt amazing against my skin. It wasn't stiff or scratchy. It felt like it belonged in a Downy commercial with that cute little bear.

When I was completely dry I went for the clothes, opting to hold off on the sweatpants right now. With the steam from the shower, it was pretty hot in the room. Using the towel to wipe down the mirror, I summoned the courage to look at myself. A fresh round of tears started all over again. I looked…clean…healthy even. I had color in my cheeks and my skin actually glowed.

When I felt composed enough, I wrapped my hair up in a pony tail and left the bathroom. I searched for Edward and found him standing in the kitchen waiting by the microwave. The smell of popcorn over powered the room.

"There you are," he smiled. "I thought I was going to have to send a search party," he chuckled.

"Sorry. The water felt amazing. I hope you don't mind, but I used some of the stuff that was in there."

"No worries, that's why I bought it." I looked at him curiously which caused him to laugh. "Don't look at me like that; it wasn't for me. It's for when Alice or Esme stay over."

"Ah, gotcha. That's nice of you," I said, seeing a considerate side of Edward. "I, um, also used a razor," I added, suddenly feeling ashamed at my lack of good feminine hygiene. He didn't help when he stared at my legs for a few seconds too long.

He cleared his throat. "Uh, where are the sweats? Were they too big?" he asked, sounding strangely nervous.

"Actually, I didn't try them on yet. It was really hot in the bathroom so I wanted to hold off on them for now. Is that okay?"

"No," he squeaked out and then cleared his throat again. "I mean, yes, that's fine," he repeated, sounding normal again. "I thought we could watch a movie," he said, pointing to the microwave that was now beeping, indicating that it was done.

"That'd be great. I haven't seen a movie in so long. What are we watching?" I was probably more excited than I should be, but something as normal as watching a movie became so foreign to me. More likely than not, I wouldn't be familiar with what he was going to put on.

"Bridesmaids?" he asked. I shook my head, unfamiliar with the title.

"It's fucking hilarious. A helluva lot funnier than The Hangover." I shook my head again, not familiar with the other movie either.

"Ah man," he laughed. "Don't worry, you're gonna love it." He emptied the popcorn bag into a huge bowl. "Why don't you grab the bowl and meet me in the living room? Just press play; I'm going to grab us some soda."

"Sure." I walked farther into the kitchen, and took the bowl out of Edward's hand. "Hey, in case I forget, I want to say thank you – for everything. You didn't have to help me, but you did and I hope I don't make you regret it. All of this means so much to me." He continued to look at me without saying a word.

"You're…you're welcome," he eventually stuttered.

I smiled and turned to leave the kitchen.

**AN: …so a nicer side to Edward.**

**Anyway, some important things I need to mention. First, I'm going to take a small break from this story to finish my o/s I am donating to FFJD. It's already more than half done so it shouldn't take me long. On the up side, the next chapter is going to be an EPOV, which will probably be the only chapter in EPOV.**

**Secondly, for those of you following my other story, Silent Sufferer, I am extremely sorry for the long delay. Many factors have played a part. One being that my beta is extremely busy and hasn't had much time recently. I'm not upset b/c I know how that is, especially since I have a son which greatly limits my free time. Also, and most importantly, my laptop's hard drive crashed, taking my chapters for SS and Fighting Our Fate with it. It's discouraged me greatly from writing either of those stories. I'm not saying that I won't finish them, but I've really gotten into this story.**

**Twitter/Tumblr : Cruiz107**

**Facebook: Cruiz Fanfiction**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: It wasn't too long of a break, right? **

**I want to say a quick thank you to the readers who have rec'd this story. It means a great deal to me, esp. as an author who is just standing in the shadows of all the great authors that we have in this fandom. So a BIG THANK YOU!**

**All things Twilight belong to SM.**

EPOV

Bella cleaned up nice. Very nicely, as a matter of fact. Though I would never tell her this, I always thought she was okay-looking, _maybe_ boarding on cute, but that was it. But after seeing her fresh out of the shower, the grime nothing but a memory, she was, dare I say it? Sexy, beautiful even. Again though, I would never tell her that.

I wasn't comfortable having her in my home but I didn't have another option. I needed to protect my investment, so to say.

Every time I saw her it seemed like she had a new bruise or injury. At the rate she was going, I wouldn't be surprised if one day she just didn't return again. I didn't know anything about this girl, but nothing that I'd seen already made me want to learn more.

However, I wouldn't lie and say that we didn't have a decent time last night while we watched the movie. She had a gut busting laugh that had me laughing more at her than the movie itself. But I blamed the vodka I had been consuming since Tanya had walked through my door for my more than giving behavior.

I couldn't stand her and was glad to be rid of her. She was a one night stand that went on too long. Tanya was needy and greedy. Her voice irked me and she had no sense of humor. The only things that she had going for her were her looks and her skills between the sheets, but even that wasn't enough to keep her around.

I was currently in my office when my cell phone began ringing. Looking at the screen, I saw my brother's goofy face smiling back at me.

"What's up, Em?" I answered, shuffling papers around, getting ready to leave for the day.

"Rose is what's up," he answered and I already knew where this conversation was going.

"Rory Dolan's?" I asked. Rory Dolan's was a local bar that had decent music, live bands every so often, and reasonably priced liquor.

"Can you be there in half?" Emmett asked.

"Yeah, see you there." I said, shaking my head as I ended the call. This was a cycle with him and Rosalie that didn't seem like it was going to end anytime soon. I knew exactly what was going to happen when I got there. He was going to rant and rave and I would just sit there and nod, listening to everything he had to say…yet again.

Twenty minutes later, I walked into the bar and quickly spotted Emmett is the corner booth – the same one he liked to occupy every time we met.

Sliding into the booth, I saw that he had already ordered me a beer.

"You asked her to marry you again?" I asked, not bothering to beat around the bush.

"Yeah," he responded sadly, while picking at the label on his beer bottle. His side on the table was littered with small confetti sized paper.

"And she said no again," I stated, already knowing the answer.

"You got it." He remained silent, but I knew it was just a matter of seconds before he began talking.

"I just don't get it," Emmett started. "I mean, this girl was the one who ran away so we all have to suffer? Why should we put our marriage on hold because of someone who probably doesn't want to be found?" he ranted. "And we have a kid, man. I'm good enough to have a baby with, but not marry?"

Emmett had been going out with his girlfriend, Rosalie, for about four years now. She was great with Emmett, but was a perfect bitch in my opinion. Emmett had popped the question two years ago, wanting to make things legal and official now that they had a child. Much to everyone's surprise, she said no. Her bullshit excuse was that she didn't want to move on with her life without finding her long lost best friend first. I thought it was kind of silly, but it destroyed Emmett. Ever since then, marriage has been a touchy subject for him.

"Why not just have something small; avoid a huge fanfare and dramatics. Just the two of you?" I offered my opinion.

"I told her that. I told her that if it made life easier that we could go down to the courthouse, that way _no one_ would be there but the two of us. She always says no, though. That it doesn't matter how big or small her wedding is, she's not having one without her best friend there." I listened to him talk with rapt attention, though I heard this all before.

"I can't even bring up the possibility that her friend might not even be alive anymore. I did once and I'll never do that again. But really, how long should we keep looking before we give up?"

Emmett had began seriously helping Rosalie search for her M.I.A. friend when he realized that she wasn't joking about not getting married without her friend there.

"And _if_ we do find her?" he stopped picking at his label and finally looked up at me. "I don't know if I'd want to slap her or hug her," he humorlessly laughed. "How do you feel about someone who has ruined two lives, but at the same time could help _revive_ two lives?" He stopped talking but I could see the moisture in his eyes building. He cleared his throat before he began again. "I just want to marry my Rosie and I can't because of some chick I never even got the chance to meet."

I wanted to tell him I understood, but I didn't want to bullshit him, either. I had no idea how he was feeling. I've never been in love.

"Look, man, I know you don't want to hear this, but give it some more time. Eventually Rosalie is going to come to her senses and realize that she's wasting everyone's time chasing someone that could have fallen off the face of the earth." I gave him the best advice I could without sounding like an asshole.

He continued talking and I let him. In reality, I just wanted to go home. Alice was at my house watching over Bella and I wanted to relieve her of her babysitting duties. Really, I didn't trust Alice all that much to watch Bella. She was too nice and would probably let Bella get away with doing things that I would never let her do if I was there.

I stayed with Emmett for another hour before I decided I really needed to head home. With parting words, we went to our separate cars and drove away. Ten minutes later, I was pulling into the garage, more eager to finally get upstairs and inspect the condition of my home. I didn't know what to expect.

"Hello," I called out when I entered my apartment.

"I'm in here," Alice called from the kitchen. I expected to see Bella in there with her, but she was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Bella?" I asked while grabbing a coffee mug from the cabinet.

"Sleeping. She wasn't feeling well and thought she could sleep it off. Frankly, I'm worried and I think I should ask Jasper about it."

"Leave Jasper alone. Don't you think his case load at the hospital is big enough without adding some charity case on top of it?"

"You're one to talk," she spat. "What's your angle, anyway?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at me.

"What are you even talking about?" I walked over to my Keurig and powered it on, without paying Alice any mind.

"Oh, please. Letting her stay here out of the kindness of your heart? You're not that nice of a guy. What's in it for you?" she asked accusingly. I laughed at Alice because she knew me so well it was funny.

"What's in it for me, Alice, is her finishing that painting. Have you seen it?" I asked her. I had snuck in the room where she worked yesterday while she was sleeping. I could tell that there were little things that needed to be fixed here and there, but it was absolutely breath-taking. I truly believed that my parents would love it more than they did the actually photo, and that was saying a lot.

"And when she does finish it? Are you giving her the boot?" she asked, challengingly.

"I don't know. I haven't thought that far ahead. There has to be something out there for her," I said, distractedly. I honestly had no idea what to do with Bella in a week's time. I wanted to tell Alice that it wasn't my problem, but I knew that wouldn't go over very well with her.

"Whatever," she replied in a dismissive, yet angry, tone. She was dropping it for now, but I knew that it would be brought back up sooner than later.

"So, I dropped all my classes this semester," she continued a few minutes later.

"What?" I whipped my head around so fast I probably gave myself whiplash. "Why the hell would you do that? And what is your mom going to say?" I knew my aunt and knew that she was going to flip her lid when she did find out.

"I didn't tell Mom yet, and I probably won't for awhile. Besides, it's not like I live at home, anyway. She's probably going to be pissed, but I can't do anything about that." She was entirely too calm about the whole situation and it made me worry – she was never this calm about anything.

"I just don't get it. I thought teaching was your goal. What changed?"

She sighed, frustrated. "No, it wasn't. But _who_ happened was Bella." I cut her off before she could go on.

"What the hell does she have to do with anything?" I asked, angrily. The last thing I wanted, needed, was for Bella to start getting into Alice's head and manipulating her thoughts. Hopefully, that wasn't the case.

"First, cool the hell off. Second, she _talked_ to me – asked me what I actually like to do, instead of assuming that I wanted to take a certain road in my life."

Alice didn't give me a chance to respond. After practically yelling at me, she grabbed her things and stormed out the door, muttering under her breath. She left me standing in my kitchen, aggravated and annoyed. Not at her, but at the sleeping homeless girl down the hall.

Her timing couldn't have been better. I could hear her feet shuffling out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. When I heard the toilet flush and the water turn off, I walked to the bathroom, waiting for her to emerge.

"What the hell did you say to Alice?" I asked her as soon as she opened the bathroom door, scaring her. She grabbed her chest and took a calming breath.

"Nothing. I told her that you let me stay here because it was easier than having to meet up every day." I looked at her, confused. When I realized what she was talking about, I shook my head in frustration.

"No, not that. What did you say to her that made her drop out of school? Is this some kind of jealousy thing? You didn't finish so you don't want her to, either."

She looked at me wide-eyed and terrified. "No, not at all. I never told her to drop out of school. All I said was that she should do what makes her happy."

"How do you know what makes her happy? What - do you think that you two are friends now or something?"

I could see the tears in her eyes, but she wiped at them before any could fall.

"Don't worry, Edward, she's not my friend – she's better than that," she chuckled, humorlessly. "And I don't know what makes her happy. All I know is what she told me and that was that she wanted to pursue a career in fashion. I advised her that maybe she could work on her designs while she's in school." I could hear the crack in her voice as she spoke.

"Look, I'm sure you meant well, but don't dish out advise to Alice. Let her family do that."

She nodded and quickly wiped away a traitor tear. "You're right; it isn't my place to say anything. I just thought I was helping, but I'm sorry."

The apparent sadness in her voice made me feel a tinge of guilt for approaching her the way I did. I pushed those feelings aside as I remembered what Alice had done after talking to Bella. Bella was in no position to dispense advice when it seemed like she couldn't even get her own life in order.

"So," I said, trying to break the awkward tension that was building up. "Are you hungry? I can order out." I figured food might cheer her up, or at least make her stop crying. She looked hungry, but then again, she always looked hungry. However, this time she actually had a look of disgust cross her face at the mention of food.

"No thanks. I'm still a little under the weather and I don't think food is the best decision right now."

Now that she mentioned it, she did look a little clammy. She had beads of sweat gathered along her hairline and base of her throat. It couldn't be the heat since I was more than comfortable with the current temperature in the condo.

"Alright then. Let me know if you need anything, I guess," I said, dismissing myself from her presence.

"Can I use your shower?" she asked, wrapping her arms around her torso, bending forward slightly.

"Yeah, sure. There should be some fresh towels in the closet so help yourself."

"Thanks." She tired smiling, but I would call it more of a grimace. She began walking toward the bathroom when she stopped and turned back around. "Edward?" she called to me.

I had already begun walking to my bedroom. "Yes?"

"I finished the painting this afternoon. Just give it a whole day to air out some, and then you can frame it."

I was excited to see the end result, but contained my emotions easily. For some reason, the thought of her knowing that I looked at her art in awe, unnerved me.

"Oh really?" I asked, coolly. "That was quick. I'll take a look at in a few." I turned around to head back to my bedroom. In reality though, I couldn't wait until she got in the shower so I could take a peek. I tossed my keys and wallet on the kitchen island as I passed.

Instead of my original intension of getting undressed, I sat at the end of my bed, just thinking. Bella finished the painting which meant that she had to go soon. Technically, she didn't _have_ to go, but what other choice was there?

The more I thought about the little bit I knew of Bella, the more I realized that she wasn't that bad of a person. She had gone to college, albeit, she hadn't finish for whatever reason. She was considerate with Alice, and while I didn't like her forming a friendship with my cousin, I could appreciate her concern for her. Bella was also quiet – didn't ask for more than what she was given. She was polite and grateful. She was also kind of funny. Even though I was mostly drunk a couple nights ago when we watched the movie, I could still remember some of the random remarks she made than genuinely made me laugh.

However, she did a lot of things that I didn't agree with. She was a whore, for fuck's sake! What if she had some kind of STD? She was a thief. There was also the possibility that she did drugs when I wasn't around. I wasn't having that type of lifestyle in my home.

Tonight could possibly be the last night she stayed here and I didn't know how I felt about that. Granted, she was only here for a couple of days, but it still felt odd. Once she left, she would be gone and I, most likely, would not run into her again.

Frustrated at my indecisiveness, I finally stripped myself of my suit jacket and tie. Work was stressful and the last thing I needed was to come home to yet another matter that I didn't know how to handle. Finally changed into a pair of sweats and an old college t-shirt, I walked out of my bedroom. As I approached the kitchen, I heard a soft thud coming from that direction. When the room was finally in view, I could see Bella, freshly out of the shower, standing at the counter with her hand on my wallet.

"What the hell are you doing?" I asked angrily. She was visibly startled when she heard me and quickly removed her hand.

"I needed some water. I was on my way to ask you." She was scared and I could hear it in her voice, but I was too pissed to care.

"Really? So why did you have my wallet in your hand?" She angered me even more, acting like I had not just caught her trying to steal from me.

"What?" she asked, playing ignorant. Her eyes widened in realization. "No, I wasn't trying to steal from you." She shook her head furiously. "I knocked it down as I was passing. I picked it up and you got here as I was putting it back down. Count it if you don't believe me," she pleaded. I did just that. I grabbed the leather wallet and opened it. I counted two hundred, which was odd because it was twenty more than I thought was in there.

"It's all here," I said as a form of an apology. "Sorry about…" I trailed off. I did feel bad about accusing her of something she didn't do, but how could I have known?

"Don't worry about it; I get it. If you don't mind, I'm just going to go to bed." She tried smiling, but could tell that she was fighting back tears again.

"Sure, I'll see you tomorrow. I'll be off these next few days so I'll be around." I don't know why I told her since neither of us knew for sure where she would be after tomorrow.

After Bella had been in the extra guestroom for awhile, I decided to go look at the finished art. Quickly, I crept into the temporary work room and switched the light on. Aside from the easel and canvas, no one could tell that the room had been rearranged to provide a temporary studio. Everything was back in its place – the bed, nightstand, and lamp. The easel and canvas were positioned by the window. All the supplies had been gathered and placed back into the bags in which they were left for her in the beginning. I guess it was another positive characteristic I could list – she was neat.

I walked over to the artwork that was facing the window and turned it around. It literally took my breath away. It was gorgeous before, but now there were no words to describe how remarkable it was. The colors were sharp, brilliant. The twilight sky was evident and I swear I could see the trees swaying in the painting. The most magical thing about the painting, though, was that I could see the love in my mother's smile and the happiness in my father's embrace. The photo didn't even capture the emotion of my parents the way Bella's work did.

The piece also spoke a lot about Bella herself. She could have butchered it, putting me in a very difficult position of finding another person to paint the portrait. But, no. I could see her devotion in every stroke of paint that marked the canvas, the admiration for my mother she once told me she had for her. In this single piece, I knew there was no way I could just dismiss Bella as if she never existed.

I studied the art once more before I left the room. On the very far left bottom corner, the initials IMS could be read in very elegant script. There was no "B" and I didn't know what to make of that. Did she lie about her name? Were the initials fake? Deciding it was something I could just ask tomorrow, I let it go and went back to my room?

I woke up the next morning feeling slightly refreshed. I was eager to talk to Bella; figure out some kind of arrangement that we could both agree on. I jumped when the alarm clock read nine AM. Regardless of whether I was working or not, I never liked to wake up later than 9:30. I also assumed Bella would already be up since she was always up early.

Walking into the kitchen, I noticed that it was a lot quieter than it had been the last couple of days. Though Bella never watched the television or helped herself to anything in the kitchen without asking first, I could still hear her shuffling around in one of the rooms. The silence was eerie and it didn't feel right. I checked the room designated as a studio to see if she was in there. Opening the door widely, she was nowhere to be seen. Checking to see if she may have still been sleeping, I crept to her bedroom. I opened the door slowly, quietly, not wanting to wake her if she was still, in fact, sleeping. However, she wasn't sleeping, or even in the room at all. I backtracked into the hallway toward the bathroom to see if I passed her without noticing. She wasn't there, either. Bella wasn't in the condo.

Frantic and worried, I raced back to my room to put on sneakers. As quickly as I could, I went down to the garage and into my car. I didn't know exactly where I was going, just the general area of where she had asked me to drop her off that one time. Speeding through the streets, I reached the destination that I never wanted to see again. This whole neighborhood was run down and forgotten. The homeless littered the streets, and drug dealers were more than evident. The thought of Bella living like this sent shivers down my back, but also gave me renewed vigor. Bella _was_ better than this and I felt like shit for thinking otherwise.

I began asking random people if they had seen Bella, but received the common answer that no one knew a "Bella". Even after describing her, no one had an answer. I was up and down the streets for an hour, stopping everyone I saw, when I finally saw a familiar face. I didn't know him, but I already hated him.

"Hey man," I said, approaching the unsuspecting guy. He looked me up and down, assessing me.

"Yeah?" His tone was cautious, defensive.

"Have you seen Bella today?" I asked and he immediately smirked. Now I _really_ hated him.

"No, I haven't. But if you see her tell I miss being in between her legs." Before I could register my actions, I had him by the lapels of his coat, ready to slam the slimy fucker head first into the cold concrete.

"If I ever see you near her, I'll take a fucking scalpel to your throat. Trust me, you won't be missed." To show him I wasn't joking, I pressed my thumb into the base of his throat, right below his Adam's apple, making it difficult to breathe. When he began clawing at my arms to let him go, I did, but not before delivering a hard fist to his jaw. I didn't knock him out, but he was brought to the ground. And just for the hell of it, I kicked him when he was down.

My heart was beating overtime and my adrenaline was through the roof. I had to stop myself from turning back around to put the asshole out of commission for awhile. I had to go back to my car and give up my search for right now. If someone else told me something I didn't want to hear about Bella, it wasn't going to be pretty. I was already on edge and needed to calm down. I drove the whole way home, on auto pilot, my mind was in a million different places.

Pacing my apartment, I was finally able to control my breathing and calm down. However, my emotions did a quick one eighty. Where I was worried before, I was just livid now – I felt used and betrayed. I knew that I wasn't the nicest person to her, but I deserved more than her just leaving in the middle of the night without a word. Even if she didn't want to stay here any longer, the least she could have done was told me. And what if she left me to be with someone from the streets? A drug addict?

Needing a distraction, I called Emmett. "Hey man, wanna do something?" I asked when he picked up.

"Well hello to you too, Edward," he answered and I rolled my eyes. "But seriously, I can't. Rosalie's heading to Forks and I have Isabel with me. Why, what's up?"

"Why does something need to be up for me to want to hang out with my brother?"

He chuckled. "Because one, it's kinda early to make plans to hang out. Second, you sound kinda pissed which leads me to believe that you don't really want to hang out, but want to either vent or run away from something. Which is it?" he asked knowingly.

"Nothing. I just wanted to hang. I have a load of paperwork I need to get done, anyway. I'll talk to you later." I hung up without waiting for a reply.

I did just that. I still had to finish my proposal for a grant I was trying to get. I worked on it for hours until I needed a break. Dressing in gym clothes, I went downstairs to work out.

I spent the next two days doing the same thing. I found myself doing anything I could do to distract myself from thinking about Bella. I even avoided the guest room where the painting was waiting to be brought in for framing. The few times my thoughts slipped and thought about her I either ended up feeling sad, guilty, angry, or a combination of them all. She had only been gone for two days but it felt like forever.

On the third day, my last day off, I decided to just go into the hospital. I had already written a very good rough draft of my proposal with all the free time I had. But I needed to get out of my home before I went bat shit crazy. Forgetting about Bella wasn't an easy feat so I figured I could keep myself busy looking over patient charts.

I spent all morning going over my patients that I was scheduled to operate on in the upcoming days. I worked until my eyes crossed and I couldn't distinguish letters from numbers. When a break was long overdue, I called Jasper on his personal cell phone.

Jasper was a doctor who worked mainly in the E.R. but was known to visit and help out in all the departments in the hospital. It was also not uncommon to find him volunteering at the free clinic located next door to the hospital.

"What's up?" he greeted.

"Nothing much. Where are you right now?"

"The nurses' station in recovery," he answered. He was on my floor.

"Up for lunch?" I asked.

"Yeah, sure. Just give a few minutes then we can head out."

"Sure. I'll just meet you there." Gathering my things, I headed over to meet Jasper.

I found Jasper standing at the nurses' station quickly talking to Angela, the head nurse on this floor.

"Hi, Angela," I waved to her in greeting. I turned to Jasper. "You ready?"

"Yeah, I just have to –" he was cut off by an all too familiar voice.

"Jasper, I called the number you gave me."

I froze for a second before I turned to face the person I had tried to forget about. Bella was standing three yards in front of me wearing the customary hospital gown. When she finally noticed me, her eyes went wide and she began gapping like a fish.

"Edward?" she asked, as if trying to decide if she was just seeing a ghost. "What are you doing here?"

"You two know each other?" Jasper asked, clearly shocked.

"Kind of," Bella replied. Jasper began looking between the two of us, very suspicious, before he went back into doctor mode.

"What are you even doing out of bed, Bella?" They had a friendly demeanor with each other; even on a first name basis. It annoyed me a little that they seemed to get along so well.

Bella snapped out of staring at me and finally over to Jasper, looking a little sheepish. "I needed to stretch my legs, so I came out here instead of just calling for you."

"Alright, but I really would rather you stay in your room, just in case you start feeling weak. It would make me feel better if you were near a bed." The ease at which he spoke to her pissed me off.

"Ok," she addressed him before turning to me. "It was good to see you again, Edward." With that, she turned and headed back into her room, acting as if she had never walked out on me without a word. When I heard her door close, I immediately began speaking to Jasper.

"What the hell is she doing here?"

He looked at me like I was a moron. "Well she wanted to know how the EKG machines worked," he replied sarcastically. "What the hell do you think she's doing here?"

"Come with me to my office," I demanded, not giving Jasper the time the decline. I turned to walk back to my office, knowing that he would follow. When he was seated comfortably, I began with my barrage of questions.

"How did she come to be admitted here?"

"First off, how do you know her?" he asked, full on doctor mode. I groaned and rolled my eyes, but answered anyway.

"Remember the photo that I wanted painted for my parents?" Jasper nodded. "Well, she painted it for me. I kind of took her in, but she up and left three nights ago. Right now is the first time I'm seeing her since she left," I finished, the anger evident in my voice.

"It was probably the same night she came into the free clinic," Jasper began. "It was probably around two in the morning. I was on call so I decided to see if they could use some help at the clinic to give me a reason to stay close. Anyway, she came in, crying and throwing up, complaining of a bad stomach ache and abdominal cramps. Eventually, after some tests, we found that she had appendicitis – pretty badly, actually. If she hadn't had come to the clinic, it would have erupted." I was shocked as I listened to Jasper speak. If she was in that much pain, why hadn't she some to me? Jasper kept going.

"We performed an emergency appendectomy and she's been recovering ever since."

I let his words marinate in my head, but I was still too surprised to think clearly.

"If it was just an appendectomy, why is she still here? That's a fairly routine operation with patients recovering at home."

Jasper leaned forward in his seat, suddenly looking stressed. "That's the thing – it's more than that. I have no idea how that girl managed to have the strength to get her ass over here." His words put me on edge. "She's obviously underweight – malnourished - , her iron is low, she's cut up and bruised. We both know she's homeless. There was no way I could send her on her way after surgery until she is fully recovered, even then it stills seems dangerous to me. She's…she's just in a bad place."

I nodded in total agreement. "What's going on with her hospital bill?"

"Reserved donor funds," he replied, smirking. I other words, Jasper was going to take care of the bill himself. It wasn't unheard of having doctors paying a bill, or making them disappear, but it wasn't something that was done often since it could be risky if the board ever found out.

In that moment, I felt like such a failure as both a doctor and a human being. How could I see her everyday and not realize the true state she was in? What kind of doctor, person, see's that and not feel more concern.

"Did Alice tell you that she dropped her classes this semester?" I asked, taking Jasper by surprise.

"Of course. Why?" he asked.

"Did she tell you that Bella had something to do with it?" I didn't know why I was telling him this since it had nothing to do with what we were talking about.

"Really?" he responded, shocked but happy at the same time. "I have to thank her then."

"I…huh?" I was confused at his reaction. He laughed when he saw my expression.

"I'm her fiancé. I knew that Alice wasn't truly happy in school, but she faked it and I didn't have the heart to call her out on it, but you have to see her now. She walks around the house smiling, asking me what I think about the colors blue and brown on a scarf or tunic. If she's like that because of the patient down the hall, then I owe Bella."

I couldn't continue sitting with Jasper talking and realizing how much of a better person he was and how much of a fuck up I was. We had a quick lunch down at the cafeteria before he had to go make his daily rounds. Steeling myself for…whatever may happen when I see Bella, I knocked on her door and entered when she called out.

"Hi," I greeted. She looked surprised to see me but quickly recovered.

"Hi, what are you still doing here?" she asked. I ignored her question and started with my own. I believed that at the very least I deserved some answers.

"Why didn't you come to me when you weren't feeling well? Or call me, something?" My voice sounded almost as if I was pleading and I hated that, but I couldn't help it.

"I don't know." She sounded small and ashamed and I hated that I made her feel like that. "It was late and I didn't want to bother you. I figured, in a few hours I would be out of your hair anyway, so it wouldn't be a big deal," she shrugged and wouldn't meet my eyes. "I didn't even know you were a doctor."

"Why didn't you call me?"

"I didn't have your number. But it's okay though, I'm alright." She tried smiling at me but it made me feel like an idiot. If I would just think before I spoke, then I would have realized that she never had a way to get in touch with me.

"So…how are you feeling? Really?" I asked, for the first time genuinely concerned about her.

"A lot better. I still get a little weak here and there, but the pain is gone for the most part. Jasper helped me a lot." She was extremely grateful for him and if I was being honest, it annoyed me that she was grateful for him and not me. But in fairness to Jasper, he was there for her when I wasn't.

I nodded slowly. "What happens next? After you leave here?" I was curious to know if she had plans already or if it wasn't too late to offer her something.

"New York," she responded quickly, smiling.

"What do you mean?" I asked curiously.

"Well, I was thinking about it for awhile, but I think I'm ready now. There's nothing here for me anymore, so why stay?" she shrugged.

"And what's in New York?" I asked, patronizingly.

"Nothing, everything," she answered, wistfully. "On my sixteenth birthday, my parents took me to New York to see a Broadway show, Aida, and I fell in love with the city. It holds nothing but good memories so why not start over there?"

I wanted to tell her that she would be no better off there than here, but I let it go. If she had it bad here, it would be ten times worse in new York.

"What happened to them?" I asked, taking a huge leap of faith and hoping that she'd answer. I took the seat that was by her bed, hoping that she'd realize that I was truly here to listen to her, and not just interrogate her like some kind of criminal.

Her eyes became vacant almost instantly and her voice lifeless. "Nothing dramatic – carbon monoxide leak. They died peacefully," she replied robotically. It was almost eerie.

"Is that how…you became homeless?" I asked, trying to be as sensitive as I could.

Instead of vacant eyes, they became hard as she glared at me.

"I'm really tired, Edward. I think you should leave." She didn't wait for my reply as she scooted lower in the bed and draped the covers over her small frame. I remained seated for a few seconds, astounded by the sudden turn of events.

I left her room quietly, still perplexed as to what happened, but didn't try to talk to her again. Instead of going back to my office I opted to go home, needing peace and quiet to process the whole fucked up day.

I was woken up early by a knock on my front door. Still slightly groggy, I walked to answer the door.

Emmett, Rosalie, and Isabel entered the apartment when I widened the door. It seemed that no matter how tired, angry, or sad I was, seeing Isabel made me feel better. She was the only person that I actually could stand for long periods of time without getting annoyed. She was the perfect combination of Rosalie and Emmett. She had Rose's blonde hair and hazel eyes, but Emmett's curls and dimples. For a two year old, she was extremely intelligent and witty; her vocabulary growing every day.

"Hey, Izzy," I greeted my niece, ignoring my brother and Rose.

"Ed-dee," she giggled when I picked her up and peppered her face with sloppy kisses. "Nooo, clean." She began laughing harder and trying to squirm out of my arms. I let her go and watched as she ran into the living room in search of the "remokes", as she called them. She knew what she wanted to watch and how to find it.

"Hi to you, too, Edward," Rosalie said in a snarky tone. She would never admit it, but she loved the relationship I had with her daughter.

"Yeah, hi," I grumbled, walking over to the kitchen to fill Isabel's sippy cup that I kept on hand, with juice.

"Did you bring the portrait over to get framed, yet?" she asked as she laid a bag down on the table. In the corner of my eye I could see Emmett already raiding my fridge. I would have said something, but I knew whatever he grabbed we would be sharing with my niece.

"No, not yet. I'm probably going to get a quote tomorrow. Why?"

"Because I want you to bring this with you – get me a quote on this one." She pulled out an object wrapped in muslin. She unwrapped it to reveal a painting of a two old ladies holding hands as they sat close together on a tree swing.

"Where'd this come from?" I asked as I scanned the painting more closely. Looking at the painting made me feel…strange.

"I found it when I was doing maintenance in the house in Forks. I thought it was lost," she said, her voice whispering at the end.

I continued studying the picture when saw something in the far left corner. It seemed like the world stopped when I was those three scripted letters.

"Who painted this?" I asked slowly.

"My best friend in the whole world – Bella. She was, is, the most amazing artist. She had a small underground following," she praised.

"You mean Bella, like the Bella you've been looking for?" I asked, hoping that I was wrong in my assumption, even though I knew I wasn't.

"Yeah," she replied quietly, quickly wiping away a tear.

"If her name is Bella then what does "IMS" stand for?"

"Isabella Marie Swan, but everyone calls her Bella."

My thoughts were reeling and I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone. None of this could be real.

"Do you have a picture of her?" Seeing a picture would be the nail in the coffin of this whole fuckery.

She nodded and pulled out a picture from her purse. Emmett was no longer in my fridge, but standing defensively over his girlfriend, watching her every move. He looked angry and I could only imagine that it had to be because of the mention of Bella. She held out the picture for me to take.

Bella…my Bella…was Rosalie's Bella. The same Bella that Rosalie had been searching for. And she was absolutely gorgeous.

**AN: Hope you liked it.**

**I want to also apologize. I didn't get to reply to all the reviews like I wanted to. I was going to finish review replies tonight and post tomorrow, but thought maybe you'd like an update instead. If I was wrong, I'm sorry.**

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	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Again, I apologize for not replying to every review like I intended to do for the last chapter, but this chapter needed to get out sooner than I intended.**

**The chapter is short, and hopefully you guys don't think I jumped the shark with it. You gotta stick with my, though.**

**SM owns all things Twilight**

I felt better and it was all thanks to Jasper. My stomach pain and the throwing up was gone. Even the dizzy spells had vanished. Eventually, Jasper was convinced I was well enough to be discharged.

He thought I was dumb, but I didn't make a big deal out of it. "Reserved donor funds"? I knew it was bullshit and had inkling that he, himself, was the donor. Hospitals wouldn't spend extra funds to pay the hospital bill of a homeless person that was possibly a druggie or alcoholic. Either way, I didn't say anything and remained extremely grateful for him saving my life, no questions asked.

Not only that, we developed the closest thing to a friendship that I hadn't had since Marcus. We talked easily, as peers - not as doctor, patient.

"I'm going to miss having you around; you're a really funny chick," Jasper said as he leaned on the wall next to my bed.

"You're alright, I guess," I replied, shrugging my shoulders. I chuckled at his expression of mock hurt. "Oh, please. You know I think you're a cool dude."

"Pfft, of course I am." We laughed and talked while I waited for the nurse to come back with my discharge papers. However, when the nurse finally came back and explained my aftercare instructions, the atmosphere became very serious.

"Are you sure you don't want to try flying to New York?" Jasper asked for the hundredth time.

When Jasper found out my plans to go to New York, he gave me the number to a church that was known for helping the homeless - house them until they managed to get back on their feet. However, availability was limited and Jasper encouraged me to call ahead. The director of the program informed me that while they did have room for me, they didn't have the resources to get me there. When I told Jasper this, without missing a beat, he offered to help me. He suggested flying, but I didn't have identification to be able to board a plane. I suggested the bus, but Jasper dismissed that idea with a disgusted face. We settled on a happy medium - the train.

"No. I'm actually excited about taking the train. I've never done that before." Jasper nodded, but didn't say anything else on the matter. "Hey, I know I've said this before, but thank you. If it wasn't for you, I'd literally be lying in the gutter somewhere." He shook his head in disagreement.

"What you did for Alice? I can't put a monetary value on it."

I looked at him confused. "Alice? Edward's cousin, Alice?" He smiled wide, confirming my assumption. "How do you know her?"

He laughed. "She's my fiancé." He quickly sobered. "She's happy, really happy, and that's because you gave her the push no one did." He chuckled at nothing in particular. "You don't even know how many magazines she'd go through, drawing over dresses, making changes in pen and then sign her name in the corner. This is what she wanted and she's finally going for it. Thank you, Bella." Jasper's voice was thick with emotion and I couldn't help get teary-eyed myself. Jasper's love for Alice was so overwhelming that I could feel it.

Jasper cleared his throat. "Let me go get your ticket in my office. In the process, maybe I'll get my balls back." I was still laughing hard when he walked out of my room, shaking his head.

I sat on the bed, waiting for Jasper to come back when the door flew open, startling the hell out of me.

"You," Edward said angrily, pointing his finger at me. "You're the reason why my brother's girlfriend won't marry him. You have no idea what the hell you've caused."

"But...I don't even know your brother," I began, truly terrified. I backed away from him, fearing what he might do. There was fire in his eyes that I've never seen before. Sure, he was mad at me on a regular basis, but never like this. There was only one logical answer.

"Was I "with" him?" I asked. If my past activity prevented his marriage, I was sorry, but it wasn't like any of them actually confessed to having a girlfriend. If that was the case, then it wasn't completely my fault.

"What?" he looked confused until he realized what I meant. "No." He shook his head vigorously. "Wait, where are you going?" he asked when he noticed that I was no longer dressed in the hospital gown.

"I'm doing it - I'm finally leaving...to New York," I answered, trying to sound as enthusiastic about it as I could. I hoped it would distract him from the anger.

"No...you can't." He rubbed his face and groaned. "You can't leave, yet," he said, sounding only slightly calmer.

"I thought you'd be happy that I'd be out of your hair." I paused for a second. " Oh wait, is there something wrong with the picture?" It seemed like the only reasonable answer as to why he was so anxious about me leaving.

"It's Rosalie," he blurted.

"Rosalie, who?" I asked cautiously. There was no way...

"Rosalie Hale - your best friend," he said slowly.

"Get out, Edward." I demanded, remaining composed although I wanted to punch him right in the face.

"What? Why?"

"Why can't you just leave me alone?" I asked him, rhetorically. " I'm sorry about Alice quitting school, I'm sorry that I made you think I would steal from you, and I'm sorry about whatever I did to your brother, but am I that much of a thorn in your side that you'd stoop so low? Please, just go. It was nice knowing you."

I took a lot from him. Insults and insinuations I could shrug off, but this was unforgivable. I wouldn't put it past him if he used his special doctor resources to find things out about me. Apparently, he dug around and found out about Rosalie and he probably knew more about my parents than he let on. The worst, though, were the lies. Rosalie wasn't in Seattle – she was bigger than this place. I couldn't prove it, but she was in Hollywood, directing block buster movies like she dreamt of doing. And when I could afford it, I was going to watch one of her movies on a big screen.

"Bella, listen to me. Rosalie's been looking for you ever since ran away-" I cut him off.

"I was protecting myself," I corrected, forcefully, pointing my index finger in his face. I bent down to put my sneakers on, ready to leave. I still had a little more than an hour before my train departed, but I couldn't stay here anymore.

"It doesn't matter why you left; the point is that she's been looking for you. How do I tell her that I found you and let you leave? It'll crush her, which will destroy my brother."

I couldn't do the back and forth game with him any longer. Walking past Edward, I left the room before he could see me cry. I looked to the left to see the elevator reaching the floor and opened. I began walking to it before I realized I didn't have my ticket yet. Changing directions, I power walked to where I had saw Jasper walk on a different occasion. I was in a hurry, wanting to avoid contact with Edward one more time.

Looking at the ground while I walked, I bumped into a hard figure. I groaned internally, hoping that it wasn't Edward, as bumping into him seemed like a common occurrence. Glancing up, I breathed a sigh of relief when it was, in fact, Jasper.

"Where's the fire?" he asked, chuckling. I smiled out of respect.

"Just excited, I guess," I lied. "New things ahead." He nodded in understanding.

"Well, here you go." He held out the ticket and I took it from him eagerly and hugged him fiercely.

"Thank you…so much," I mumbled into his shoulder, trying to fight back tears.

"Repay me by making it. I want you to live, not just survive. Just like you got Alice to do." I felt a stray tear fall and moisten Jasper's shoulder.

I gave him a soft kiss on the cheek, hoping I wasn't overstepping my bounds. "Take care…and tell Alice I'll be looking for her line." I smiled, but smiled wider when Jasper beamed. Without another word, I headed toward the door to take the stairs instead of the elevator. I needed the time to process everything and I couldn't do that in a crowded elevator, horrible music, and the smell of sterilization seeping out of the doctors and nurses.

The air outside was chilly but invigorating. The train station was about six or seven blocks east and I still had about an hour or so before my train was to depart. Walking would take me about twenty minutes and still give me enough time to settle for a little while before I had to board.

Walking proved to be more relaxing and calming than it ever was before. I figured it was because I was walking toward something more; the new start that I desperately needed. There would be no more Peter or James in my life. No more crowded soup kitchen or a shelter that provided a false sense a security. There would be no more sleeping in a wide open warehouse next to a drug dealer or a hooker servicing a customer ten feet away.

Oddly enough, as much as I hated him right now, I'd miss Edward, too. Yes, he was mean and condescending, but he did have some redeeming qualities. He did let me shower and stay with him for a bit. That was generous. But more importantly, he was a good family man. Wanting to commission someone to paint that photo for his parents was remarkable. His concern for Alice's education was inspiring. Although he had misplaced anger, he was upset that his brother wasn't happy. He was an okay guy…to the people that mattered.

I reached the station quicker than I anticipated. Suddenly, feeling very paranoid, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the envelope Jasper had handed me that was supposed to contain my train ticket. I noticed that it felt thicker that I thought it would, not having realized it before in my hurry to leave the hospital. Curious, I opened the white encasement and immediately cursed Jasper's name. Alongside the thin paper ticket, were four twenty dollar bills.

Although the cash was completely unexpected, I was extremely grateful. Part of me wanted to find someplace and buy the biggest, greasiest cheeseburger they had and wash it down with a gallon of soda, but the logical part of my brain knew that this money had to be saved. I didn't know what I was going to be walking into when I reached New York and it would definitely help to have some money in my pocket.

I walked deeper into the station, taking in my surroundings. It wasn't as busy as I thought it would be, considering Thanksgiving was around the corner. Sure, it was crowded, but nothing like I pictured it would be. Then again, I've only ever ridden the subway, where people pushed their way into a car and nabbed the first available seat despite a pregnant woman and an elderly man holding onto a dirty pole for their dear lives.

The riders around me seemed more calm, relaxed.

I found the waiting area and sat on a relatively empty bench. The large clock in front of me read 2 PM. My train wasn't scheduled to leave until 2:35. I continued looking around me, people watching. I heard loud sniffling to the right of me. Turning my head in that direction, I saw a family huddled close together. The woman who I presumed to be the wife and mother held a small child on her hip. If I had to guess, I would say the boy was around two years old. The man, who I figured to be the husband, enveloped them both in his arms, his lips resting on his son's head. The lonely duffel bag that rested at his feet told me that he was the only one travelling at this time.

The whole scene reminded me of one of those 1930's, black and white films where loving couples had to say goodbye to one another on the platform. Although blanketed by sadness, it was romantic at the same time. I found that I couldn't tear my eyes away from the family as they said goodbye. In ways that I was unsure of, it brought me comfort in my own departure. I could pretend that they were saddened that I was leaving, hoping to see me again someday.

When their last words were said, and hugs and kisses exchanged, the man walked away while mother and child stood behind, waving to his retreating form. I picked my own hand up, slowly, waving at the man's back and hoped he had a speedy and safe trip, coming back to his family as soon as possible.

When I was finally able to look away a feeling of longing overwhelmed me. There was no one here to wish me a safe trip, or make me promise to call when I finally reached New York to let them know I was okay. If I got locked in the train's bathroom and got my foot stuck in the toilet there would be no one interested enough to listen to my embarrassing moment. When longing started to become sadness, I tried redirecting my thoughts, looking for a distraction.

I saw a coffee shop hidden in a corner. I contemplated buying myself a cup, just one luxury I would afford myself with Jasper's money. Looking at the clock, I realized I had twenty minutes until I could board. It was enough time to get a cup of coffee and find my platform.

As I walked to the coffee shop, I couldn't help but think of the last time I had purchased a cup of coffee. That fateful day when, unbeknownst to me, everything changed, set things in motion. I couldn't help the smile that pulled at my lips when I recalled Edward's face when I splashed him with coffee. It was far from funny then, but I could laugh about it now. Who spends a couple hundred dollars on a shirt? I shook my head in amusement as I remembered him informing me about the extravagance of his holier than thou shirt.

When I was merely feet away from the shop I thought I heard my name being called. Pausing, I realized that there _had_ to be another Bella floating around here somewhere, and I wasn't the intended person. I continued walking until I heard it again. This time there was a familiarity about it; I knew that voice and it put me on alert.

Turning around slowly, I saw a tall blonde woman walking cautiously toward me. I swallowed hard and closed my eyes and rubbed them hard, willing the image to go away. When I opened them, she was still there, closer now.

I began walking backwards, my step faltered and I stumbled but was able to catch myself before I fell to the floor.

I looked around, trying to find some temporary safe haven. My eyes landed on the bathroom and I walked in the direction, hurriedly but trying to not draw too much attention to myself. The voice followed me and I picked up my pace until I finally reached the wooden, swinging door. I went for the furthest available stall.

I locked the stall and sat on the toilet, bringing my feet to rest upon the stall door. I brought my head down to rest on my knees and I tried to calm my breathing.

"She's not there," I muttered to myself. "It's just stress." I kept chanting the same thing over and over.

It had to be stress. My mind was still tired and while my body was mostly healed it still had a lot more healing to do, as Jasper told me. My best friend was standing in the mist of all those people and I could hear her calling my name, almost pleadingly. None of it made sense, but things that weren't real rarely did.

When I finally felt better, more in control of the trick my mind was playing on me, I unlocked the stall. I poked my head out, just to be on the safe side. When I saw nothing out of the ordinary, I left the comfort of the small, cold stall. I opened the bathroom door to be greeted by the figure I was running from. It was too real. My breathing picked up and everything began to spin.

"Bella?" Rosalie's ghost said. "Why are you running from me?" she asked, sadness unmistakable.

When her hand reached out to grab me, I couldn't do anything. I was paralyzed with fear until it overtook me and everything went black.

**AN: Sorry for the short chapter, but I was eager to get this out. **

**Thanks to Kitty Vuitton, and of course all you guys who continue to read this story, it's up for Fic of the Week over at The Lemonade Stand. I was truly honored when I found out today – I never expected any of my stories to reach the point. Anyway, the poll closes Saturday, and if you feel inclined to vote for my story, I won't hold it against you. There are some great stories on that list, so I'm not holding my breath. I think it's cool either way.**

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	8. Chapter 8

**AN: I have a beta for this story now! Whoop whoop! SereneinNC beta'd this and is working on the previous chapters. I've only been working with her for a few days and she's been great.**

**Also, the chapters are going to be shorter now due to time constraints. **

**All things Twilight belong to SM**

I heard frantic voices hovering over me – both of them sounding very familiar.

"Help me move her into the bathroom," a female voice said.

"Why do you want to move her _into_ the bathroom? Do you realize how dirty it is in there?" the second voice said, sounding agitated. I knew that voice and tone very well.

When I felt someone grab around my neck, I immediately jerked up in self-defense.

"Oh, God, you're awake," Rosalie practically sobbed.

"How long was I out?" I asked, my head pounding in my own ears.

"Just a few minutes, but enough to scare the shit out of me."

I looked to Rosalie's ghost, who didn't look to be a ghost at all, with tears in her eyes. I reached my hand out to cup her cheek, needing tangible proof that I wasn't crazy.

"You're here – really here?" I asked, somehow still not convinced.

Rosalie chocked back a sob and nodded. "I'm here…and so are you." While both of us remained sitting on the floor, Rosalie flung herself at me, hugging me tight, and sent us both flying back onto the floor.

Returning the embrace, I found myself hugging her back just as hard, if not harder. If for some fucked up reason I was sleeping and this all turned out to be a dream, I wanted to remember the way she felt in my arms.

"Ladies, can we please get up off the floor? People are staring," Edward said, sounding slightly uncomfortable. Not to make him happy, but because my back was beginning to ache, I loosened my hold on Rose and started to stand.

We walked over to a row of benches, Rosalie and I walking hand-in-hand and gazing into each other's eyes as if we were long lost lovers.

"I…I don't even know where to start," Rosalie said, wiping away tears with her free hand. "How about telling me where the fuck you've been?" she said through laughter and tears. I looked over her shoulder to Edward, silently asking him if he told her anything. He shook his head no. For a split second, I considered lying to her, but knew that it was a bad idea.

"I've been here, in Seattle," I answered vaguely.

"You've been here in Seattle?" she asked, her voice echoing how hurt she really was. "And you never looked me up?" A fresh round of tears started between the two of us.

"I haven't been here the whole time – just about the last year and a half. I spent some time in Port Angeles, too." I wiped away tears with the palms of my hands, and used my sleeve to wipe away the snot I felt beginning to slide from my nose. "Besides, what are you doing here? You should be in Hollywood, or something," I said, trying to lighten the mood and deflect her question off me. Her smile was fleeting before she turned serious.

"I stayed in Washington…hoping to find you. And…oh God, you're here." She launched herself at me, hugging me tightly once again.

When she finally pulled herself away she asked, "What happened? Why'd you leave?"

I swallowed hard, not prepared to answer her. "How about this, Rose, you give me your number and I'll call you when I can? If I leave right now I can still probably make my train." Hopefully, it hadn't already left. I wasn't ready to face my past…and Rosalie was my past.

"Edward said you were leaving. Where are you going?" she asked frantically.

"New York," I answered, simply.

"New York?" she repeated, horrified. "What the hell for?"

How did I explain to her that I hated Seattle and needed to get away? She wouldn't understand that I was tired of literally living day to day, not knowing what the day would hold or _who_ may have had something in store for me. I couldn't tell her that on most nights I wished that I wouldn't wake up the next day. Rosalie had never done anything wrong in life to have to hear the burden I would put on her. If she was Edward's brother's girlfriend, then she should move on with her life. Be happy like the people around her wanted her to be.

"Yeah, it's a fresh start, I guess." I answered the best I could.

She seemed at a loss for words. "At least…at least wait. Please. Let's talk and if you still want to leave then I'll drive you back here myself. You owe me this," she added after a beat.

A part of me agreed with her. I did owe my best friend an explanation why I basically disappeared off the face of the earth. However, another part of me wanted her to just understand without me having to say anything. My resolved crumbled when I looked into her pleading eyes. Her expression was child- like, not the mature, grown woman she had become during and after college.

"Fine," I agreed, knowing that I couldn't refuse her this. "Can we at least go somewhere else?" I asked while I looked around me. Paranoia was starting to seep in, the feeling that all these faceless strangers were sticking their necks out trying to eavesdrop.

"How about my place?" Rosalie offered. "Emmett is with the baby and Esme so we can talk there."

"Who's Emmett?"

"I told you about him when we were in school, but you never got the chance to meet him," she replied. She swallowed hard and cleared her throat, willing herself not to cry.

"Is Emmett the same person as Emmy?" I asked. Two weeks before my parents died, Rosalie had come to me and told me that she met a new transfer student. Because it was still the shallow part of their blooming relationship, all she ever really said was that he was gorgeous, funny, and built. However, she never referred to him as Emmett, but rather Emmy…Emmy Cullen.

"Yeah," she laughed through her tears. "I can't believe you remember that."

"That's why Cullen sounded so familiar to me when I found out that was your last name," I said to Edward, although I never told him his name rang a bell.

"So you've met Emmett before?" Edward asked.

"No. I remember that Rose tried to set it up, but…things happened," I answered, not wanting to reveal anything right this minute. I could feel that memory after memory were trying to infiltrate my mind, but I couldn't let that happen here. "Let's just go," I said after a few seconds of silence.

Thirty minutes later, the three of us were entering Rosalie's apartment. It was modern, but quaint at the same time. Aside from the toys scattered about, the place was neat.

Walking into the living room, my body immediately went straight for the mantle that housed a number of pictures. I was eager to get a glimpse as to what was going on in her life. My eyes zeroed in on a beautiful little girl with what looked like the bounciest curls and deepest dimples.

"That's Isabel," Rosalie whispered from behind me. "I named her after the best person I know." I swallowed the lump in my throat and turned to my best friend. I wanted to tell her how wrong she was, and how I was the kind of person you tell your kids to stay away from unless they wanted to end up as nothing. I wanted to tell her that she named her precious daughter after a whore. But I didn't.

Rosalie, and maybe Isabel one day, would be the key. They could be the people to remember that I wasn't always a dirty beggar with nowhere to go. They could be the only two people in the world that knew I was on my way to be someone people might want around.

"Thanks," I said instead. She nodded, but didn't say anything further. It wasn't until Edward walked into the living room, that I even noticed he wasn't there.

"I'll never understand why you keep so much Mountain Dew on hand," he said while taking a seat on the sofa. My eyes snapped to Rosalie who shrugged in response, casting a sly grin.

I loved her, so damn much. It was always the little things with her. When we were younger, she always bought Onion Ring chips because they were my favorite, although hers were Doritos. She would let me rant and rave about nothing or the same thing over and over again without telling me to shut up or get over it. In retrospect, she was probably a better friend to me than I was to her.

"Because cool people do the Dew," she laughed. I found myself doubled over in laughter, laughing harder than I'd laughed in forever. That was the line I used every time someone asked me why I preferred Mountain Dew over Pepsi or Coke.

We spent the next few minutes reminiscing about the small things that neither one of us forgot. I cried, but out of laugher. All too soon, and I'm not quite sure how, everything turned serious and her and Edward were waiting for me to explain things that I wouldn't let myself think about.

"You just left. Without a word," Rosalie whispered. Her words wrapped around my heart and squeezed. Not in that heartwarming way, but the way someone feels when they're having a heart attack.

"Do you remember their funeral?" I asked.

"Of course; they were my second set of parents." I didn't know how I wanted her to answer. It both amazed and hurt me that she remembered. It hurt me because I couldn't even remember most of it. I racked my brain for anything that happened, but nothing. The only thing I did remember, now that Rosalie mentioned it, was her by my side the whole time.

"I don't. I try to recall the mass, the eulogy, anything and I can't. I mean, I…_we_ arranged the whole thing." When I had learned of my parents death and the fact that I was the one who had to plan _both _of my parents' funeral, Rose went with me everywhere – to the funeral home, the church, the cemetery. Besides Rose being right with me, it helped that my dad, being a cop, had anticipated his death. He purchased life insurance and grave plots for both him and my mother. Still though, I don't think he planned on both of them going at the same time.

"Is that why you left, because you couldn't remember the service?" Her eyes pleaded with me to disagree with her, to show her that I was smarter than that.

"No, that's not why," I said, shaking my head. Before explaining I looked over to where Edward sat, right behind Rosalie and paying rapt attention. If he thought lowly of me before, then I couldn't even fathom what he would think of me now.

"After you went back to school I slept in my parents' bed. Not even sleeping, really. I would be still for hours, staring up at the ceiling, wondering what I did wrong. Nothing made sense. I only got up when I couldn't hold my pee in any longer. I was in that bed for two days before I realized that I hadn't eaten in three days." For some reason, I remembered the days after the funeral.

"I was a walking zombie…until I went downstairs." I paused again remembering the sight that greeted me that day. "Something called to me, making me finally leave my little cocoon."

"I don't think I'm getting it," Rose interrupted.

"I saw them – Mom and Dad. They were downstairs as if the last week never happened, and I just went with it. I missed them so much."

I remembered the first time I saw my parents. I wasn't even shocked to see them going about their day. My heart felt light for the first time since I received the call about their deaths. I didn't even question it – ask them what they were doing home when I saw them being buried not a week ago. All I cared about was that I had my parents back, the people who made up the other half of my soul. It was like the funeral was just a bad dream that I woke up from.

I was always close with both of my parents. I never even went through that teenage phase where I hated everything about them and thought their main purpose in life was to make me miserable. Sure we had disagreements, but not the typical disagreements that parents had with their kids. My parents _wanted _me to get out more – actually get into trouble. I rarely took interest in things if art or Rosalie weren't involved. Sure, I had friends, but it wasn't like my world revolved around them.

Even when I left for college I still talked to them every other day, except when finals came around or I became wrapped up in some new painting. Even then, I still kept communication open, opting for quick texts rather than long phone calls.

Getting that phone call that night shattered my whole world.

"What do you mean you saw them?" Edward asked. "I thought you said they died?" His reaction was comical, but genuinely curious.

"I went into the living room and he was there, watching some fishing show. So I sat down in my sweat pants and one of my dad's old t-shirts and watched fishing with him," I chuckled humorlessly through tears. "I hate fishing." I smiled but shook my head at the memory. "And only when my back began to hurt from sitting for so long did I get up to see what Renee was doing."

Rosalie looked horrified as I talked and I couldn't blame her. However, her reaction was exactly what I had run from.

"Mom was in the kitchen, complaining about how the show was gonna make Charlie want to plan a fishing trip," I said, causing me to smile through my tears again.

My mom hated fishing, hell she didn't even like fish, period. She endured it because she loved my father.

"I fell into step with her and helped her knead the dough to make cinnamon rolls, listening and laughing along with her. And that's how it went for three days. If I wasn't hanging out with Charlie then I was hanging out with Renee."

I blocked all of these memories the same day that I finally left – it was my way of protecting myself. However, looking back on those few days now, I was truly happy. I laughed with them, cooked and baked with my mom, and even played board games with them. Everything was just so real…until it wasn't anymore.

"I don't even know what happened. One morning I woke up and they weren't there anymore. Charlie wasn't sitting on the couch and Renee wasn't in the kitchen. I even looked for the lasagna we made the night before and it wasn't in the fridge where I put it before I went to bed."

I heard Rosalie trying to hold her sobs in as she listened. Even Edward seemed to have moved closer, sitting on the edge of the couch.

"After looking for them and coming up empty I realized that I was alone the whole time. I was scared to tell anyone, scared that someone was going to say I was crazy and have me committed or something. I couldn't stay in that house any longer and I just left."

I recalled that day like it was yesterday. I walked out of my old house and didn't look back. I didn't even take anything in my haste to escape my old life. I ran until my lungs burned and I couldn't breathe. Even after that, I didn't stop moving. When I finally stopped I found myself in Port Angeles, hidden behind stores to keep people from staring at me. Now I realize it was irrational, but at the time I could have sworn everyone I passed knew that I was seeing my dead parents and judging me. It wasn't until people began recognizing that I was part of the small, but growing, homeless population did I finally leave.

Getting to Seattle wasn't even that hard. It obviously took longer than usual, about two days, but I got there.

Rosalie was crying beside me and Edward looked a little taken aback. I appreciated that neither of them looked at me like I was insane.

"So…so _where_ in Seattle have you been?" she asked between hiccupping and coughing. I don't know why, but I looked to Edward, hoping that it would make answering her easier. He looked at me sadly, but then shifted his eyes to Rosalie, silently telling me to answer her.

"Here and there, really, but mostly downtown."

"At the 5th Street Shelter when I get the chance," I whispered, feeling more ashamed at my state of living than ever before. I was scared to look her in the eye so I kept my head down.

"What do you mean 'when you get the chance'?" she asked. It was like she was doing this to purely torture me. I took another deep breath before responding.

"If the shelter is at full capacity then I have to find other arrangements," I answered vaguely. Rosalie looked deep into my eyes, her way of analyzing my answer. She'd always done that since I'd known her.

"Bella," she responded, a little too calmly. "Are you telling me that you're homeless?" I nodded, finally looking her in the eyes only to be met with her teary, tired, and guilt-ridden ones.

"Don't be sad," I told her, reaching to hold her hand. "I did this to myself. I've accepted it and I'm going to be okay. That's why I'm going to New York – to hopefully have a home long enough to get back on my feet."

"What!" Rosalie shrieked, making to stand up at the same time. She began pacing in front of me. "You can't leave – I just found you." She stopped pacing and knelt right in front of me, holding my hand once again. "You have a home with me, Bella. I love you and I can't lose you again."

I smiled down at her, but refused what I believed was her offer to say with her.

"You have a family, Rose. They need you to concentrate on them. I told you already – I did this to myself so I need to fix it myself."

"How about this?" Edward spoke for the first time in a while. "Bella can stay with me while we figure things out. This way she won't feel like she's in the way here, but you two can still spend time together."

I narrowed my eyes at Edward, but didn't say anything in front of Rosalie. I was afraid that if I disagreed with Edward it would be a slap in the face, as if staying close to her meant nothing to me. As a matter of fact, it was the complete opposite. I wanted to make a home with her, where I knew I would be safe, warm, and loved, but it was too late for that. I left the only home I'd ever known out of cowardice.

I looked to Rosalie who began crying a fresh set of tears. In all my years on the streets, I don't think I'd shed, or seen anyone shed, as many tears that flowed between the two of us in this moment.

Rosalie looked at Edward and I could see the awe in her eyes. She had to know him better than I did, since I don't know him well at all, so couldn't she figure out there was something behind his offer? On the other hand, though, she had always been a fairly good judge of character.

I freed my hands from Rosalie's and began rubbing my face out of frustration and concentration, trying to figure out what was in this for him. After a minute of tense silence and not having come up with anything, I chalked it up to Edward just wanting to make his family, which now included Rose, happy.

"Fine," I finally sighed. "But this doesn't mean I'm definitely staying here. Consider this a trial period."

Rosalie jumped up from the floor and slammed her body into mine, laughing and crying at the same time. I couldn't help but laugh with her on the outside while I was dying on the inside. I knew I wouldn't be able to make it in Seattle much longer. There were too many people I needed to stay away from to be comfortable walking the streets that had become my home.

Now on top of everything else, I knew having Rosalie back in my life meant rehashing things that I buried a long time ago.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Thank you to everyone who reviewed. I didn't respond to all of them, but I guess that's nothing new. I'm trying to at least reply to the reviews that have questions and such.**

**The chapter was beta'd by SereneinNC and she's been absolutely great.**

**All things Twilight belong to SM**

"What the hell was this about?" I asked Edward when we finally returned to his home. The three of us had gone out for lunch, which Edward paid for, and spent about two hours catching up before Rosalie had to get back home. We spent another half hour just saying goodbye. It was bittersweet to see her again.

"What are you talking about?" he responded, the picture of innocence, while he draped his coat over the sofa.

"Offering to let me stay here when you don't even like me," I clarified for him, while following him into the kitchen.

"I never said that I didn't like you. Besides, there's nothing in it for me. I'm not even doing this for you – I'm doing this for my brother. If you leave then Rosalie's going to get all upset again which affects my brother. I'm trying to save my brother, and even Rosalie, the heartache." He sounded annoyed more than angry.

I couldn't fault him for it. However, it still didn't make much sense to me. He could have just insisted that I stay with Rosalie or even make sure I stayed in town. I was missing something here and I knew I wasn't going to get it from him.

"Alright," I conceded easily. "But I'm not staying here. I appreciate the offer, but I can't accept it."

"What do you mean you can't accept it? Why not?" Surprisingly, he sounded offended.

"Because I don't feel comfortable here," I answered simply.

"Oh, and I suppose you feel more comfortable sleeping out on the streets?" he retorted.

I huffed. "I never said that it's more comfortable sleeping on a cot or grass or whatever, than it is sleeping in a real bed. What I mean is that I have to watch everything I do and don't touch, where I go, worry if I'm overstepping some type of invisible boundary because I don't want to disturb your living space. At least if I'm by myself than I don't have to worry about all of that."

He looked at me as if I had grown two heads. "Have I ever made you feel like you're a prisoner here?"

"Not in so many ways, no."

"What does that even mean?"

"Nothing." I shook my head. "I'm gonna go now." I turned to leave the kitchen when I felt him grab my bicep. I stiffened at his touch and he immediately let go.

"Sorry," he said, pulling his hand back. "But what if Rosalie calls? What do I tell her, that I let you run off again?"

"I'm not running anywhere…right now," I added. "I don't know what your motives are, and frankly, I'm done trying to figure them out. In my opinion, keeping me here has something more to do than what's going to happen between your brother and Rose, but what do I know?" I rubbed my face in frustration.

"How about this," I began after I calmed myself down. "I'll visit Rose myself, absolving you from any responsibility that you took upon yourself. Then, when I'm ready to leave, I'll break the news to her. This way it won't be a complete surprise and she can go live happily ever after with Emmett."

He shook he head furiously, but before he could answer there was a knock at the door. He glared at me as he passed to answer it. Before I could breathe a sigh of relief, I saw Tanya walking in. I didn't know her, but I didn't like her. It had nothing to do with her relationship with Edward, but the way she made me feel about myself. She knew nothing about me, but still managed to look at me like I was the lowest of the low.

"What is she doing here?" she sneered, making me visibly flinch. I answered before Edward could.

"Sorry, I was just leaving. Goodbye, Mr. Cullen." I passed the both of them without a passing glance.

"Bella, wait," Edward called.

"I'll keep in touch," I whispered so Tanya couldn't hear. I don't know how it sounded to him, but in my own ears it sounded like a permanent goodbye – and it very well could have been.

He went to speak again but I shook my head, not needing to hear anymore, and took the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator.

Walking in the crisp, cold air always allowed me to think, and to my surprise my thoughts were filled with Edward and not so much Rosalie. My feelings for Edward were weird at best. I would say it was a love/hate relationship because I felt neither of those things for him. As many times as he insulted me in one form or another, I could never hate him. He had a complicated personality – one that I haven't figured out yet.

I truly didn't believe he was a bad person; someone who helped me the way he has _couldn't_ be a bad person. If anything, he had a huge ego. Then again, maybe he had the right to have so much self-esteem. He was doctor for Christ's sake. He had a beautiful condo, smart, and not to mention very good looking. When you stand someone like that next to someone like me, there's no doubt who society would choose, and he knew that.

Despite it all, part of me liked having him around. The few times I was around him I had the opportunity to silently observe him, though most of the time he was tediously working. When he was lost in what he was reading, he had a tendency to take his bottom lip in between his teeth. When he seemed confused or aggravated at something his brows furrowed and he would shake his head as if what he was reading could see. It was slightly comical.

Without knowing exactly where I was going, I headed down the most familiar path. I hadn't been downtown in a few days. I hadn't expected anything to change, but it was a nice thought. I mentally kicked myself when I realized I had no idea what the weather was supposed to be like tonight. In the few short days where I did have a roof over my head I had become complacent, but now it was back to reality.

The sun began to set and I realized that I wouldn't make it to the soup kitchen in time. However, for the first time, I was okay with not eating tonight. As a matter of fact, I was still satisfied from lunch. I weighed my other options since the soup kitchen wasn't one tonight, but nothing was even slightly appealing. I wasn't ready to face James after he completely humiliated me and I feared running into Peter even more, which meant the shelter, was out of the question also. With a sigh of defeat, I realized that tonight would be spent at the warehouse.

I hadn't slept there in awhile – about 3 weeks or so. I had been there to service customers, but I always left right after. I doubt the climate had changed, but it would have been a nice reprieve if it did.

Another twenty minutes later I was dipping underneath the dilapidated fence to enter through the side entrance. It was easier to enter through the back but it was also more noticeable. At least if I entered through the side, I wouldn't be seen immediately. Before actually going inside, I made sure that my train ticket and the money were safely tucked inside my socks.

Entering the premises, I scanned the familiar area. Everything remained the same as I had remembered from the last time I was here; I could even pick out the familiar faces. I wasn't particularly tired but it wasn't as if these people were my friends so socializing was not going to happen.

I settled into a quiet corner and began people watching. Almost directly on the other side of me was a group of four people indulging in what I believed was heroine based on the syringes that were abandoned around them. I couldn't help but notice that I only saw two syringes and not four. All four of them had a far off look – staring into space at nothing in particular. Their bodies were all slumped and leaning on each other. Even in this space that offered little light, I could see their mouths begin to slowly open and their eyelids droop. I had never been one for drugs, but looking at these strangers, I suddenly wished in was something I was into. Even if it only lasted for a little while, it was still time that nothing in the world mattered. But as dirty and penniless as I was, I was still logical. Once those people came down from their high their main concern would be how they could get high again. Being a drug addict was expensive and it made you choose between another hit and eating. Essentials were already hard to come by and I didn't need to add drugs to that list.

About twenty feet to the right I saw a familiar female, Maria I think her name was, negotiating with a potential customer. He looked so out of place and uncomfortable with his surroundings - constantly looking over his shoulder as if he expected the police to raid the warehouse at any moment. I chuckled to myself at his worried, yet eager, expression. Eventually, money was exchanged and Maria guided him to a more secluded area. However, it wasn't secluded at all, but rather further away from everyone else.

I was probably a pervert for watching, but they were out in the open and I had seen worse. The young man seemed completely taken aback when Maria undid his belt, lowered his slacks and briefs, and began pumping his shaft. Funny enough, however, what he was feeling wasn't enough to stop him from becoming erect. When he was hard enough, Maria pulled her hand back and began lifting up her skirt and letting it rest around her waist, revealing that she was panty-less. She whispered something in his ear and turned around.

Bending at the waist, she placed two hands on the wall in front of her. The guy gripped her hips and, hesitantly, began moving closer. I could see that his erection rested on her crack but he didn't seem to make any moves to enter her. Despite myself, I chuckled at how nervous this guy was. I felt bad for him, but it was still entertainment, no matter how disturbing others might find it.

Growing impatient, Maria reached around her and grabbed hold of his dick. I snickered at how he visibly startled. With his "manhood" in her hand, she placed him inside her. Immediately, his head lulled back, most likely in pleasure. I could tell that it was Maria pushing into him and not the other way around. I could sympathize with her. While it was true that we got paid to have sex with men, it made things even worse when we had to do all the work. After all, it wasn't like we made escort money.

After another few seconds, he finally caught on and began thrusting back. His movements were jerky and very uncoordinated. He moved…like he was a virgin. The thought made me actually laugh out loud, gaining a few curious glances my way. I ignored the looks and continued watching the show. The fact that he came about five point two minutes later made me believe that I was right. I watched as he pulled out and I could only shake my head when I saw that Maria had not made him put a condom on. I just hoped that this would not come back to hurt her. She didn't seem like a reckless person, but that was only based on what I witnessed from afar. I didn't think she was a strawberry either since the heaviest thing I've ever seen her smoke was weed. When he was all zipped up again and she was as presentable as she was going to get, I finally turned away.

I continued to people watch but eventually I could feel sleep creeping up on me. It had been a long day full of so much that was new, yet old, and I still had a lot of thinking to do. I felt like I was at a crossroads and I didn't know which direction to take. When even thinking became tiresome, I laid with my back against the wall and my side of the floor. My eyes immediately became heavy and I was asleep within minutes.

I don't know how much later it was, but I was violently woken up by someone pulling my hair from above me. It was pulled so hard I was forced to stand up in fear of it being ripped from my scalp. As I grasped at the hand that was yanking my hair, I looked up in fright to see Peter smiling evilly at me.

"I haven't seen you in awhile, _Bella. _Did that boyfriend of yours kick you to the curb already?" he laughed, and began tugging harder, actually making my head shake with it. He suddenly let go of my hair but wrapped his large hand around my throat, squeezing hard. I clawed at his arm and kicked my legs to no avail. Tears were pricking the corners of my eyes and I was fighting consciousness. With his hand still wrapped around my throat, he brought his face dangerously close to mine.

"The next time your yuppie scum boyfriend threatens me, it's _you_ I'm gonna kill," he spoke in an eerily calm voice.

"I…I…don't," I sputtered while trying to breathe. I tried telling him that I didn't have a boyfriend and that I didn't know who or what his was talking about, but he made it impossible to explain.

"Just don't let it happen again. I'd miss this if I had to kill you," he said while rubbing his hand in between my legs. With one last tight squeeze of my throat and in between my legs, he let me go, throwing me against the brick wall. My back hit it hard, effectively knocking the little wind I had out of me. I breathed in air like it was going out of style.

_This_! This was one the reasons why I needed to get out of here. I would have to constantly watch my back while I lived in Seattle. I wish that I could just explain to Rosalie the way my life works right now; how it didn't revolve around my kids, job, or husband. My world revolved around doing what I had to do to make sure I ate and found some place relatively safe to rest my head for a few hours a night. If it wasn't for the promise that I made to her, which I intended on keeping, then I would have stood up right now and walked my ass to the train station.

When I saw that Peter had taken the space that was previously occupied by the drug users, my whole body tensed. He switched between staring daggers at me to grinning mischievously at me. Slowly, cautiously, I lifted myself off the floor, never taking my eyes off of Peter. Walking sideways, I finally reached the side entrance I had entered from. When I was finally off the property that housed the old warehouse, I ran. I didn't know why or where I was running, but I needed to get far away from Peter.

When I felt the burn in my lungs, I finally stopped. I bent over at the waist and rested my hands on my knees, sucking in deep breaths. The more I stood on the deserted street trying to catch my breath, the more my resolved crumbled. Finally standing upright, I turned in the direction that would take me to Edward's condo.

Getting there took longer than it usually would have taken me. Not only were my lungs still aching, but my incision began to throb dully, despite it being almost completely healed. About forty minutes later, I was a block from Edward's and the closer I got the more it seemed like a bad idea. I didn't think he would reject me, but I didn't know if Tanya was still there. If she was then I couldn't stay there, despite what Edward would or wouldn't say.

Reaching the front of his building, I steeled my nerves and continued inside. The night doorman looked at me curiously.

"Mr. Edward Cullen," I told him simply, hoping he wouldn't ask any questions. Thankfully, he seemed satisfied and let me go through. During the elevator ride up, the butterflies in my stomach felt like they were having a rave. Reaching his door, I hesitated to knock. I pressed my ear to the wood trying to hear anything. The only thing I heard was what I thought was the TV. With one last deep breath, which oddly enough actually hurt, I knocked three times.

I slowed my breathing hoping to make any sounds from the other side of the door easier to hear. After thirty seconds of waiting and hearing nothing I convinced myself to leave. However, I couldn't bring myself to actually move from my spot. Luckily, I heard soft thuds making their way to the door.

"Bella?" Edward asked before opening the door. When it finally opened, I was greeted with a surprisingly dressed Edward. It had to be fairly late and I expected him to be sleeping.

"Can I come in?" I asked, all of a sudden not sure if he _would_ let me in.

He stared at me for a moment before responding, causing me to fidget where I stood.

"Yeah, yeah, come in." He opened the door widely.

"Thanks," I said as I walked through. I tried to look for signs that Tanya was still here but couldn't find any.

"What are you doing here?" Instead of answering right away I gestured toward the couch. He followed me wordlessly.

When we were both seated, I removed my coat to show him my throat, which I knew had to have some mark, or at the very least be red. His eyes widened and I assumed it might be worse that I actually thought.

"What the hell happened?" he asked, bringing his own fingers up to my throat. I flinched out of instincts and he quickly withdrew his hand. "Why is there a fucking hand print around your throat?" His voice raised a little.

"If I ask you a question, can you be honest with me?" I asked him instead of answering his question. He nodded his head. "Did you threaten Peter?" During my walk over I had time to think about what he said. 'Yuppie scum' could only mean Edward or Jasper, but for some reason I had a feeling it had to be Edward.

"The guy on the street?" I nodded. "Yeah, I threatened him. I told him I'd kill him if he touched you again." _Oh, the irony. _"Is that who did this to you?" His face was red and if I wasn't mistaken, he was angry.

"Don't worry about this right now," I said, dismissing his question. "Just promise me that whatever happens, you'll leave him alone." He opened his mouth and based on his facial expression he was going to disagree, but I cut him off. "Just leave it alone." He didn't say anything, but huffed and I took it as a sign of agreement.

"Anyway, I wanted to ask you, does your offer still stand? About letting me stay here for a while?" I asked.

"What made you change your mind?" His tone wasn't malicious or snotty, but curious and soft.

I opted for answering with what was on my mind. "I'm just tired. Mentally, I'm running on fumes and I don't know how much longer before I finally crack. I'm going to die if I stay out on those streets. And while a lot of the time dying actually sounds pretty good, I don't want it to be at the hands of someone like Peter. I know I said all of that stuff before, but I'm taking it back. If you prefer that I stay in the bedroom all day or when you have people over, then I'll do it." I could feel one tear and then another slide quickly and easily down my cheeks. "Just please don't say no," I finished, choking on my words. I think this was the beginning of me cracking.

He didn't answer right away, and every second that I waited the more my heart broke. I was scared to look up at him, believing that I would completely break down at the rejection I would probably see. Another few minutes passed and instead of answering he grabbed a hold of my hand. I looked up, surprised, but didn't move my hand away.

"I'm not going to tell you no. Whether you believe me or not I do want you here," he finally responded, still holding onto my hand.

"Why?"

"Look, I know I'm not the nicest person, but I'm also not the worst, despite the way I've acted toward you. I'm an egomaniac and I'm a doctor – two dangerous combinations," he joked, and I couldn't help cracking a small smile. "Sometimes I don't realize that it's not all about me. And I hate to admit this, but you've grown on me. I don't want to see you out on the streets when I know I have the space here for you."

I was crying freely now. He wasn't apologizing for his behavior, but I could tell that this time around he was genuine.

"Thank you." There was a short, comfortable silence. "What time is it?"

"A little after two," he answered like it was no big deal.

I looked at him wide-eyed. "Shit! Did I wake you up? You didn't look you were sleeping, but…" I trailed off, not really wanting to think that he was up doing something with Tanya.

"No. I couldn't sleep."

"Is, uh…Tanya still here?"

"God, no! She was only around for like half an hour." Another short silence.

"So, um, do I get the room again or do you want me to take the couch?" I wasn't sure if we would have the same arrangement this time as we had last time.

"No, no, the guestroom is yours. Go ahead, I'm sure you're probably tired." It wasn't until then that he finally let go of my hand. I think he forgot about it, but if he wasn't bothered by it than neither was I.

Stepping into the familiar room, I noticed some things on the bed. Walking closer, I saw that they were a stack of neatly folded clothes with the tags still attached. Next to the clothing was a small pink bag that I hadn't seen in a long time. I grabbed the contents inside – two sets of matching bra and underwear – in my size. I dropped them back inside and inspected the pile of clothing. There was a pajama set, two sweaters, two pairs of jeans, three camisoles, and a belt.

"Hey, Edward?" I called as I walked out of the bedroom.

"Yeah?" I followed his voice and found him as he was coming out of his bedroom – shirtless. If he was beautiful before, he was godly now, which made me feel even worse about myself.

"The clothes…on the bed?"

"They're yours. I wasn't sure what your size was so I had Alice tag along to help me out. If they don't fit or you don't like them, the tags are still on them so we can exchange them. Or if there is something else you need let me know."

My throat began to tighten. "You didn't have to."

"I know, but I wanted to. You deserve it."

**AN: Thanks for reading. Come…follow me**

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	10. Chapter 10

**AN: This chaper has been beta'd by the wonderful SerineinNC. She's been wonderful!**

**All things Twilight belong to SM**

Staying with Edward wasn't so bad this time around – not that it was bad before. Last time, I felt like a child that had to ask for any and everything short of using the bathroom. However, this time he told me that I could help myself to anything I needed or wanted – within reason.

I could still see the possessive, selfish side to him when he thought I wasn't looking. For example, I asked if I could take a look at the tall bookcase that he had in one corner of the living room. He hesitated, but eventually said yes. I never touched any of the books, or even breathed too heavily on them, but out of the corner of my eye I could see him studying me. When I turned to ask him something he quickly looked away, but I could see the tension in his jaw. I did appreciate the fact that he didn't lash out at me the way I'm sure he would have only a week ago.

I had been staying with Edward for five days but didn't manage to see Rosalie at all, though we did manage to talk on the phone. The day after we reunited Isabel caught a stomach bug from her dad, who caught it from one of his students. Emmett taught high school math, but tutored grade school children sometimes. From what Rosalie told me about him, he seemed like a great guy. I didn't remember seeing a picture of him, but then again, all I remember is studying pictures of their little girl.

According to Rosalie it was only a twenty four hour bug, but little Isabel was having a hard time kicking it. Just when Rosalie thought Isabel was in the clear, she would either throw up her food or refuse eating all together.

I had just gotten off the phone with Rosalie and felt a little tense. She mentioned that for tomorrow, Thanksgiving, everyone was eating at the Cullen house, meaning Edward's parents. This stressed me out for a number of reasons. First, I technically hadn't been invited and I wasn't going to assume that I was, like Rosalie insinuated. Secondly, the fact that I hadn't officially met his parents didn't sit well with me. It didn't seem right to sit in their house and eat their food the first time meeting them. It would have been different if it was a regular day, but it wasn't. It was a day to spend with family and close friends. Which is the other reason – I haven't spent a Thanksgiving with anyone since before my parents died. _If _I was invited, I didn't even know if I could remember how to act. Every Thanksgiving I'd had since I'd been on the streets was spent either completely alone or squeezed together for an hour at the soup kitchen to feast on the turkey dinner that was handed out.

"Hey, Edward?" I called out while knocking on his bedroom door.

"One sec," he replied. I walked back over to the living room to wait for him so he didn't think I was invading his personal space.

"What's up?" he asked as he sat down next to me, but still not very close.

"I was on the phone with Rosalie a little while ago and she told me that everyone was going to your parents' house for Thanksgiving," I explained.

"Yeah. We do every year."

"Well, I just wanted to let you know that she thinks I'm going to be there. I never told her I was, though."

I was well aware that Edward liked his privacy and space, and on top of everything else, I didn't want him to think that I was inviting myself over. That was _his_ family, not mine.

"Do you have plans for tomorrow?" he asked.

"Not really, but it depends on you," I shrugged. "If you want me to find somewhere else to be while you're with your parents, that's fine. The soup kitchen serves dinner early on Thanksgiving, so I could spend some time there."

"And how long is that, really? Like forty-five minutes of your day? What about the rest?"

"I dunno. I could find something to do," I answered. I tried remembering what I did last Thanksgiving, but nothing outstanding came to mind. I wouldn't tell Edward this, but I did do a few 'jobs'. It was actually amazing how much money I made that day. For whatever reason, guys seemed to come out in droves during the holiday season.

"Do you not want to go to my parents' house?" His eyebrows rose as he waited for my answer.

"It doesn't really matter, since I wasn't invited, it's a moot point."

In actuality, the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to go. Not only could I finally see Rose again, but I could meet Isabel and Emmett. There was also the fact that Esme was going to be there and I would like to see her one last time in case I did decide to leave.

"Bella, yes or no, do you want to go to my parents' place tomorrow?" he asked, looking at me expectantly.

"No," I quickly answered.

"You're so full of shit," he responded playfully. "And besides, it's really not up to you anyway," he said as he got up off the couch and walked into the kitchen.

"Wait! What do you mean?" I followed him into the kitchen.

"What I mean is, you're right about it being a moot point since you're already going," he said, while passing me a can of soda. I took it from him gratefully, and opened it, while he popped the tab on his and began chugging.

"Yeah…I don't know what you mean."

"I already told my mom that you were coming. She says she excited to see you again."

I choked on the soda that I was drinking. "What…wha…huh? Why would you invite me over and why is she excited to see me again?"

"Did you really think I would have you spend Thanksgiving alone?" He shook his head. "I guess you do think I'm the biggest prick in the world. Anyway, I told her that you two kind of already met and I described you to her and she remembers you."

"So…she knows that…I'm homeless?" My heart dropped down to my stomach. I didn't like the fact that Esme knew about me before I actually showed up at her house. Because she had this information about who was coming over, I couldn't be sure that I was invited because I was actually wanted there or because she pitied me.

"I didn't outright tell her – she figured it out. Is that really a problem?" He truly looked confused. "What's that face for?" he asked.

"What face?" I asked, putting on my best poker face. "There's no face."

"Mmhmm, sure."

He narrowed his eyes at me, looking like he was trying to read my mind, but failing.

"Anyway, this conversation is over because you're going and you're going to have fun and eat until you're a minute from exploding." He nodded his head in finality and stood up.

"Hey, Edward?" I grabbed his wrist to stop him from getting too far. He looked down at my hand before looking into my eyes. "Do _you_ want me there?"

"If I said yes would you believe me?"

I shrugged, but didn't answer.

"I didn't think so," he said. I dropped his wrist and let him leave.

**~XxX~**

"Are you sure I look okay?" I asked Edward as he parked into his parents' driveway. I was wearing a deep blue sweater that was bought for me with the other items. It was tighter than I was used to, with a neck line that was too deep. I wore a white camisole underneath to hide scars that would have been visible otherwise.

"Bella, you look nice. Better than nice, actually," he mumbled. I didn't believe him, but I was just going to go with it.

"What about the jeans? Are jeans appropriate?" I asked frantically, and instead of being sympathetic, he laughed. I wasn't one who was sensitive to being laughed at, as I'd gotten used to it these past years, but I could feel my throat getting tight and my eyes starting to burn. Being here was important to me and I wanted to look as normal as possible. Edward stopped immediately when he saw my eyes become glassy.

"Bella, look, I'm sorry but you've got to calm down. _I'm_ wearing jeans." He blew out a huge breath before continuing. "I can't believe I'm about to say this," he said, looking up to the car's ceiling before finally turning to me. "Listen to me," he began seriously, "You look stunning, trust me, I don't use that word often. I get that you're nervous right now, but please try to relax."

I took a few calming breaths as I let his words sink in. His words meant a lot, but I was still struggling to find the truth in them. I wasn't ready to face his family, but I couldn't stall much longer.

"I'm ready."

"No, you're not, but I appreciate the effort you're putting into this." He smiled softly at me and unlocked the doors.

The house was huge, looking like it came straight out of a plantation in the south, complete with a wraparound porch and porch swing.

There was a big window that looked into the brightly lit living room. Immediately, I spotted Rosalie sitting on the arm of couch, her head thrown back in laughter at something Alice said. My steps froze and my heart sunk at the scene.

"I can't go in there, Edward."

"What? Why?"

"Look at that?" I pointed to the scene that I had just witnessed. Rosalie was wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. "Rosalie has a new best friend in Alice and she's a great friend to have. If I turn around now, they'll never know I was here." I turned to leave, but Edward held my upper arms lightly, stopping me from going anywhere.

"Let's go sit down for a second," he said, as he guided me to the swing on the opposite end of the porch. I followed willingly.

"I know that you've known that girl for a lot longer than I have, but while you were…away, I've gotten to know her. That day at the train station, I've never seen her so happy, except for the day she had Isabel. She'd talk about you, about finding you and how she's never known a better person than you. Yes, Rose and Alice have become close friends, but I can guarantee you that Alice has _not _replaced you."

There was a stretched, but comfortable, silence between us. I believed his words. They weren't exactly heartfelt, but they were stern, truthful, and I appreciated him not dishing out fake words just to hurry me inside. In reality, I knew that it was hard for him to be this warm, fuzzy, caring person and I admired that about him.

"C'mon, it's freaking cold out here." He stood up and reached for me this time. His hand was big and wrapped around my whole wrist. His touch was a lot warmer than I expected, but it wasn't completely uncomfortable.

We walked right in without ringing the bell or knocking.

"Hey, ma?" he yelled.

"In here, baby," his mother called from somewhere to our left, asI followed Edward into the living room.

"I'm so glad you're finally here." Esme said, as she embraced me in a hug and I awkwardly hugged her back. Her hug took me completely by surprised since I assumed she was talking to Edward. She finally pulled away but didn't let me go. "I was so glad when Edward told me you would be joining us." She brought her voice down to almost a whisper. "I always worried about you, but never had the courage to approach you. I'm just…just really glad you're here."

I wanted to tell her that she shouldn't' have worried about me, but truthfully, it made me feel a little better. "I'm glad, too. Thanks for having me."

I heard a throat clear in the backgroundand I looked over Esme's shoulder just as she turned to face a very handsome blonde man.

"Honey, do you mind sharing or is she your shiny new toy?" the man joked.

"Oh, be quiet," Esme laughed. "Bella, this is my husband and Edward and Emmett's dad, Carlisle."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Bella. Between Rosalie, Esme, and now Alice and Edward, I feel like I already know you." He took my small hand in his and placed a kiss on my cheek, definitely making me blush. He was, after all, just as beautiful as Edward. The difference, though, was he held something more distinguished about him – something that could only come with age and wisdom.

"And of course you know everyone else in the room," he continued. "Emmett is upstairs putting Isabel to sleep for a bit. He should be down soon."

I went around greeting everyone, saving Rosalie for last. Seeing her again was almost as shocking as it was the first time, despite the fact that we had talked every day. I hugged her tight while fighting back the tears. I guess I still wasn't over the fact that she was back in my life again.

"Rose, I swear that little girl can be evil sometimes," a voice said while entering the living room. I assumed the voice belonged to Emmett. Upon seeing the massive figure, my eyes widened and I took two steps back. He was huge and more importantly, he reminded me of Laurent. Although Emmett was bigger, Laurent wasn't far off. If Laurent could do the damage he did, then Emmett could do worse.

"Edward! What's going on?" the guy said, embracing Edward. His eyes shifted over to me and I felt my heart drop to my stomach. He pulled away from Edward and narrowed his eyes at me. "And I'm assuming you're Bella?"

I swallowed thickly and nodded slowly, unable to find my voice. "I guess it's good to know you're not dead," he mumbled under his breath. Either no one else heard him, or they just didn't care.

Emmett was very good looking, just like the rest of his family, but I wasn't fooled, not even by those deep dimples that were still visible as he scowled at me. I didn't like being in the same room as him; he made me uncomfortable, but it wasn't like I could just excuse myself to go somewhere else. When he finally tore his eyes away from me to talk to his father and Rose, I took the opportunity to move further away. I found Jasper standing at the other end of the room and joined him.

"It's good to see you again, Bella. Decided to stay?" he asked.

"It's good to see you, too," I replied genuinely. I really liked him. "And yes, I'm staying for now, but I'm not sure if I'm staying permanently."

"Well, let me know if you decide to go. We'll see what we can do about the ticket."

"By the way, I still have the money that you _shouldn't _have given to me," I mock glared at him causing him to laugh lightly.

"I want you to keep it. You said yourself that you're not sure if you're going to stay or not, so if you do go then at least you'll already be ahead."

I think that the day, in general, was making me emotional. Jasper's kindness towards me was something that I had never come across in my life, except with Rosalie.

"Alice is lucky to have you," I choked out, trying my hardest not to cry.

"Thanks," he smiled brilliantly.

We began an easy conversation with Jasper telling me about some of the funnier stories that he's encountered while working in the ER. While his stories were truly entertaining and I found myself laughing, I was always mindful of where Emmett was. I discreetly kept tabs on his every movement. I would have joined Rosalie, but it was like the two of them were joined at the hip.

Everyone remained in the room, holding separate conversations. Rosalie and I would catch each other's eyes and smile at each other like we knew the biggest secret in the world. Even though I couldn't actually approach her because of Emmett, it still felt good knowing she was only a few feet away from me.

"I need another drink. Anyone else want something from the kitchen?" Jasper asked.

"I'll help you get that," I offered when I felt Emmett was a little too close for comfort. I didn't let Jasper respond before I headed out of the living room and into the hallway to wait for Jasper. If I knew where the kitchen was I would have waited in there, but I didn't want to go wandering around the house.

I followed Jasper down the long hallway into the kitchen. I helped him gather the bottle of wine he was asked to bring back and some fresh glasses that I almost dropped when I heard Edward come in.

"Bella let me talk to you for a second." He didn't sound happy and I immediately went on alert.

"Let me grab that from you and I'll see you in a minute," Jasper said. He flashed me a reassuring smile and I figured he felt the awkward tension in the room.

When Jasper was out of ear shot, Edward began speaking. "What's going on with you and Jasper? Do you have a crush on him or something?"

"What?" I chuckled, truly amused at his question. "No, I don't have a crush on Jasper. Why would you think that?" Stupidly, I let my guard down, thinking that Edward was just being silly.

"Well you've been on him like white on rice for the past hour. What's that all about?" I could hear in his voice that his already questionable patience was wearing thin.

I swallowed hard. "I don't know what you're talking about?"

I tried walking around him but he blocked my way.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. I can see it in your eyes. So I'll ask you again, what's going on?" His voice was stern, leaving no room for argument, and his stance was sure, leaving no room for escape.

"It's your brother, okay?" I hoped he wasn't going to make me explain further, but when his eyebrows went up, silently telling me to go on, I had no other choice. "He scares me."

Based on his shocked expression, Edward wasn't expecting that. "Emmett scares you? Seriously?" he asked, his voice disbelieving. "He gets called a giant teddy bear so many times that I want to scream every time someone says it. Exactly what is it about him that scares you?" I could tell by his voice that he was just humoring me.

"His size…and the way he looks at me. I don't need to be a genius to know that he doesn't like me and why. I just think that it's best if I stay away from him."

"I guess his size can be intimidating, but what is this really about? I know there has to be something more."

I relented because, not only was Edward not going to let this go, but I had to let him know that I wasn't some crazy person who was paranoid around others.

"I knew this guy once, Laurent. He was Jane's pimp. When I finally began…selling myself he always tried to talk me into letting him "manage" me, but I always refused. One night I made a little more than Jane, only about ten dollars or so, but it was enough to piss him off. That night, he followed me into the warehouse and beat me up. He said that I was stealing his money and I was going to pay him back."

Edward's eyebrows furrowed in what could either be considered concentration or concern. Either way, he was listening and that's all that mattered.

"He didn't do any permanent damage except for the bump I have on my nose after he broke it." I ran my finger down the bridge of my nose on instinct, like I did every time I thought of that day. "Other than that, nothing too bad that wouldn't heal with some rest."

I thought back to those two days. It was one of the many times where I would huddle myself into a corner and just sleep for hours or days at a time. Luckily, it was spring so the weather was pleasant. During the winter season, the warehouse was extremely cold and wet from the snow. During the summer, it became hot and unbearably stuffy.

"Anyway, Laurent had a slightly smaller build than your brother. If Laurent could do that, imagine what your brother could do to me. And he has a valid reason for not liking me. I'd be screwed if Emmett had a temper problem."

The kitchen became uncomfortably silent. His face was unreadable and that worried me. At least if he looked mad I had an idea of what was going to come out of his mouth.

He ran his hands over his face, finally showing some kind of frustration. I wasn't surprised that he seemed frustrated at me – that's all he ever was, really, mad or frustrated.

"This is so fucked up," he groaned, looking up at the ceiling.

"Should I just leave?"

Edward deserved a good Thanksgiving with his family, while I shouldn't have been here in the first place. My only regret, though, was not offering to leave to begin with instead of telling him about Laurent.

"What? No! I'm not…I'm not mad at you. I just wasn't expecting to hear what you just told me and I'm just trying to comprehend one of the most fucked up things I've ever heard." He grabbed my hand and led me over to one of the bar stools in the kitchen. He sat and gestured for me to do the same. When I finally took a seat he began again.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that." He remained quiet for a second. "God, that was so lame," he mumbled. "Bella, I don't know what I'm doing, or saying. Nothing I can say is going to make it better and I'm not going to act like it is. But I know nothing else, I know that Emmett is _not_ like that. We both know why he's upset with you right now, but just give him some time. I think he's still processing your presence. He's a good guy. Talk to him, let him see what a great person you are. Besides, if he's going to marry Rose then he better get used to you." He tried to lighten the mood and I appreciated it. I also appreciated him not spewing words of wisdom at me about time healing all wounds and all you need is love bullshit. We both knew it wasn't true.

"So you think I'm a great person?" I joked, throwing him a bone.

He shoved me playfully. "You would focus on that."

He smiled softly at me. "Seriously, though, just give him a shot so he can give you a shot."

We walked out of the kitchen feeling better, or at least he did. I was still apprehensive, but willing to try to talk to Emmett. Even just to apologize for what my absence did to his relationship with Rosalie.

Everyone dispersed from the living room and I heard voices coming from every direction. I headed back to the room that I believed was empty only to find Emmett and Isabel inside. His presence still made me nervous, but I decided to take Edward's advice and approach him. However, I was anxious to meet the little girl so she took priority over talking to Emmett.

I could feel his eyes on me as I approached his daughter. Luckily, she was sitting alone on the love seat while he sat on the recliner watching football.

"Hi. I'm Bella," I introduced myself. She looked up from the thing on her lap, which looked like a giant iPod, and said hi, immediately looking back down. On the screen were Grover and Elmo talking to each other.

"What's that?" I asked, pointing to the thing in her lap.

"Pad," she said excitedly.

"Pad? You mean Pod?" I corrected her.

"No! Pad!," she responded angrily.

"Sorry." She was a firecracker, just like her mother. "What are you doing?"

"Elmo." Looking more at the screen, it looked like she was watching an interactive book. On the page she was looking at, there was a big safe-looking door with different colors on it. From watching Isabel touch the screen with no results, I gathered that the colors had to match up in order for the door to open.

"Can I try?" I offered my help.

"No, I do it! Go ayay!" she said, not pronouncing the 'w' correctly.

"I agree with her," Emmett mumbled, but loud enough for me to hear. I think it was intentional. I tried to tell myself that his comment didn't hurt my feelings, but it did. The little courage that I was building up to speak with him flew out the window.

I continued to watch her play with the big iPod, but not really paying attention. Mostly, I was trying not to cry in front of the little girl and Emmett. Thankfully, Rosalie came in just after I wiped away a single tear that wouldn't be tamed.

"Dinner's ready. I'm so excited to have a Thanksgiving with you Bella!," she said, wrapping me into a tight hug. It offered me more comfort than she realized. I had her in a vice grip and I didn't want to let go. She was the security blanket that I needed while sitting in the same room as Emmett.

"I see you've met Isabel. Isn't she something," she said as we walked down the hallway and into the dining room. She had Isabel by the hand and Emmett was trailing behind us. I didn't like that I couldn't actually see him.

"Yeah. She reminds me so much of you. I don't know whether that's scary or funny," I jibbed. "She's really good with that thing."

"The iPad?" _Ohh! An iPad._ "You have no idea. I swear to everything, she can maneuver around YouTube better than me. You gotta see the videos she finds."

Everyone was already seated when the four of us entered. There were two empty seats so Rose and Emmett could sit together with a high chair between them. My corner seat was next to Edward and Esme, who sat at one end of the table while Carlisle sat at the other.

The long table was so absolutely packed with food from one end to the other that I was full just looking at it.

"Bella," Esme said while grabbing my hand. "We always like to go around saying what we're grateful for. Would you like to start this year?"

I didn't, really, but I didn't think I could refuse Esme. "Sure," I agreed, smiling. I looked around the table as everyone stared at me expectantly. Except for Emmett, who looked at me like he was waiting for me to say something stupid. I swallowed nervously and began.

"I'm thankful for Esme for trying to help me when she didn't even know me, as I was just another homeless face in the crowd. She went above and beyond for me, making sure that I had what I needed for at least another month.

I'm thankful for Carlisle for being a loving husband to Esme and a father of two great sons. I don't know you, but the look of love in your eyes every time you look at her and the look of pride in your sons is more than enough proof.

I'm thankful for Alice for being a friend to me when I didn't even realize that's what you were being. You talk to me like a peer, an equal. You make me realize that there are people willing to overlook what I'm lacking.

I'm thankful for Jasper, who literally saved my life. You think that I don't know that you paid my hospital bill, but I do. And even after I was fine enough to walk out of your life forever, you still gave me the resources to make sure I could survive on my own.

I'm grateful for Emmett and Isabel for loving and supporting my best friend when I wouldn't. You gave her the best gift that she could ever ask for when you gave her Isabel. You were the friend that I never was and I know that she is safe with you.

I'm grateful for Edward for giving me the opportunity to prove to myself that I am more than what people see on the streets. He gave me a warm bed to sleep in and a chance to take a shower. More importantly, he gave me a chance to feel human again. And despite the fact that I can be frustrating to him, he still has enough patience to deal with me.

And I'm grateful for Rosalie for being my sister. She was there for absolutely everything I went through. I'm grateful that she never forgot about me and still wants to be my sister after everything I did to her, Emmett, and little Isabel. I'm grateful that she was a better friend to me than I ever was to her. One day, maybe I can forgive myself for hurting her, the same way she has already forgiven me."

When I finally stop talking, I noticed that the room as gone extremely quiet – not even the rustling of clothes can be heard. I looked up to see the whole table gawking at me.

**AN: Thanks for reading. Next update will be the rest of Thanksgiving.**

**I'm donating to Fandom for No Kids Hungry. Let me know what you would want to read. **


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: The chapter has been beta'd by SerineinNC, who is the awesomeness. I also wanted to say thanks to CaraNo for rec'ing this story and helping me gain a lot more readers.**

**All things Twilight belong to SM.**

I looked at everyone's gawking expressions and tried to figure out what I said. I drew a blank trying to recall. Had I said something offensive or left someone out? The only one who wasn't staring was Isabel who had already begun picking at her food.

"I'm sorry. Was that wrong?" I asked hesitantly. No one responded as they continued to look. I was a second from bolting out of the room from sheer embarrassment when Esme reached for my hand. I looked at her and noticed that unshed tears glistened in her eyes.

"No, Bella. That was just so beautiful." She cleared her throat. "I don't think anyone can follow that," she joked. I smiled at her, trying to relieve the tension I was beginning to feel. I hated that all these people were looking directly at me. I felt like I was being put on display and ridiculed.

"Well I'm going to try," Jasper said. When I looked over to him he threw me a wink. He was trying to get the attention off of me and I appreciated it so much more than he realized.

Jasper gave his thanks and everyone followed. As everyone spoke, I realized that I was wrong. They all stated a few things they were grateful for while I recited an essay. I felt like an ass.

After everyone was done giving thanks, forks clanked against the china and different conversations began to flow around the table. With the exception of Edward occasionally asking me if I was okay, no one really engaged me in conversation. One would think that I would be offended, but in actuality, I was relieved. It wasn't like I had anything to offer that was "dinner appropriate". I heard Emmett talk about his classes, Edward and Jasper talk about some of their cases, and so on. Most of the time Rosalie was either cutting up Isabel's food, telling her to use utensils instead of her hands, or scolding her to not throw food. I tried hiding my smile at Rosalie's frustration. She was probably overwhelmed at the moment, but I knew she would give up peaceful meals the rest of her life for Isabel.

Most of my time was spent concentrating on the mass amount of food on my plate. The food was delicious, especially the turkey. It was seasoned just right and incredibly juicy. I loved my mom…to death and beyond, but poultry was not her friend. Bless her heart because she tried, but whenever she cooked a bird it was always dry as hell. It was nothing like this.

I kept on eating. When I felt satisfied, I continued eating. When I felt full, I continued eating. When I felt like I was going to puke, I continued eating. I only stopped when my plate was empty and I physically couldn't put any more on my plate. It was then that I put my fork down and closed my eyes. I needed a rest…from eating.

Even after it seemed like everyone was done eating, no one made to get up. They continued sitting and talking. I studied everyone's plates in front of them. It didn't seem that anyone else had eaten as much as I had. Some would probably consider eating that much punishment. Hopefully, no one noticed how much I indulged myself.

Finally, after another ten minutes, Carlisle got up and grabbed his plate and then Alice's. Neither plate was completely cleaned.

"You're not throwing that away, are you?" I called out, appalled at the notion. It wasn't until the room went quiet that I realized what I had done. Carlisle looked at me wide-eyed and gaping.

"No? Do you want it?" he asked, unsure of himself.

I wanted a hole to swallow me. I hadn't meant to say that out loud, but apparently all the food I had eaten had blocked my brain-to-mouth filter. The silence at the table was deafening. Even Isabel was quiet, observing the difference in the way the adults were acting now than just a moment ago.

"Um…" I hesitated. I didn't want it at the moment, but the thought of throwing away perfectly good food killed me inside. It brought back memories of when I hadn't eaten for days or had to literally dumpster dive to find anything edible. "Can I take it to go?"

Carlisle scrunched his nose and furrowed his eyebrows as he looked down at the plates. I followed his gaze and saw the messy mashed potatoes covered in gravy, turkey pieces that were bitten into, and crumbs from the dinner rolls.

"I guess it's not a problem," he began. "But there is plenty of untouched food that you could take with you instead. There's not much here," he said, holding up the plates he had in his hands.

"No, no. What's there is fine," I replied, pointing to the plates. Yes, there was a good amount of untouched food left, but I wouldn't dream of taking any of it. That was the food they could divvy up between them. I was sure that food wouldn't be wasted, but the food on the plates was going straight into the garbage and I couldn't let that happen.

Carlisle looked to Esme; his eyes pleading for help. She shrugged, unsure herself what he should do.

"Is it a problem to give me the food?" I asked when Carlisle still hadn't answered. " Cuz' I'm not trying to cause any, so if it is, forget about it." As much as I didn't want to see that food ending up amongst the rest of the trash, it would bother me even more to cause tension between Carlisle and Esme.

"It's not a problem," Edward said pointedly, rising from the seat next to me. He walked over to Carlisle and grabbed the plates from him. He brought them into the kitchen and came back seconds later and began collecting everyone's plate. The only empty plate belonged to me.

"How about dessert?" Esme chirped, trying to relieve the awkwardness shrouding the room.

"Hell yeah!" Emmett boomed. I sat frozen in my seat, more than startled by Emmett's outburst.

"Hey yeah!" Isabel tried to imitate, much to Rosalie's chagrin. I shook my head in amusement, but remained quiet since I didn't want to draw any more attention to myself.

"Bella? How about you? I have apple, cherry, and pumpkin pie."

"Oh, no thank you." My voice took on a tone that sounded as if I was pleading for no more food to be served to me. It was the very first time in over three years that I actually passed on food.

"You've got to try her cherry pie, Bella," Rosalie said, while cleaning potatoes of Isabel's face and butter off her hands. "It's freaking awesome and I know it's your favorite."

I turned to look back at Esme to politely decline again. However, the look of pure hope and anticipation on her face wouldn't let me.

"Sure," I said after giving into peer pressure, even if it technically wasn't. "Just a small piece, though."

Esme nodded enthusiastically and practically jumped out of her seat to get the desserts. Carlisle followed to help her as everyone began to talk amongst themselves once again. I tapped Edward on the shoulder while he was talking to Jasper.

"Excuse me," I said to Jasper, apologizing for interrupting, before talking to Edward. "Is there a bathroom I could use?" I asked Edward.

"Sure. It's the very first door on the right on the second floor."

I excused myself from the table and made the short walk to the bathroom. I locked the door and sat on the toilet. I needed a minute to just relax by myself. I was extremely full from gorging, and feeling sluggish and tired. All I really wanted right now was a bed and a warm comforter. The thought of piling more food into my already compacted stomach made me let a low groan. For a split second, I thought of making myself throw up to give myself a little extra room. However, throwing up would have been completely stupid and hypocritical of me after I made a fool of myself downstairs.

So far this Thanksgiving wasn't turning out too well. Emmett scared the shit out of me, despite what Edward said. I hadn't talked much to Rosalie which was a little disappointing, and I managed to make a complete idiot out of myself more than once. Topping everything off, I didn't think I made a good impression on Isabel.

I stood up and undid the button and zipper of my jeans and carefully positioned the sweater over it so no one would realize I was trying to undress myself. I was able to breathe a little easier, but it still wasn't much. I looked at myself in the mirror, and while I looked better than I did weeks ago, I still wasn't much to look at. My collar bone was still more prominent than it should be and the bags under my eyes were only slightly lighter. My skin had a little color to it now, but I was still too pale for my liking.

In college, though I would never admit it out loud, I thought I looked pretty good. My hair was voluminous, my cheeks had great natural color, my eyes shone, and I had meat on my bones. I had a complexion that didn't require much make-up so I was able to forgo it unless I wanted a change. I didn't have problems getting dates, but had problems keeping them interested. None of the guys that I tried dating liked the fact that they were never first in my life – always coming third after my art and Rose. I was fine with that, though, since I never gave a shit about them anyway.

Now? Now it was laughable at how invisible and unimportant I had become.

A knock on the door had me jumping a foot in the air and throwing a hand over my racing heart.

"Bella? You okay in there?" I heard Edward call from the other side.

"Yeah! Sorry. I'm coming now," I responded as I unlocked the door. Edward was leaning against the opposite wall with his hands in his back pockets.

"You sure you're okay? You were in there for a while." Dare I say that he actually sounded worried?

"Really, I'm fine. All that food just made me a little slow," I tried joking.

"You've been gone for like ten minutes." He didn't sound angry or curious, but rather disbelieving.

Without further explanation, I went back downstairs and took my seat again. Thankfully, Esme had not yet returned. Rosalie gave me and Edward a questioning glance, but didn't say anything. I caught Emmett glaring at me, but quickly averted my eyes. Not a minute later, Esme and Carlisle had returned with all three pies, mugs, and a pot of coffee. The coffee smelled amazing and I found myself wanting _that._

Esme cut me a small slice, but poured me a generous cup of coffee. I sipped the coffee before I even added sugar or creamer, eager to taste it. I wasn't a fan of black coffee, but I needed the coffee in my system. I had developed a caffeine addiction during college and it was a tough three days after I ran away from home when my body was going through the withdrawal. Luckily, it wasn't as dramatic as a drug withdrawal, or as long.

Rosalie passed me the sugar and creamer with a smirk on her face. I rolled my eyes playfully, but snatched up the items. I prepared the coffee to perfection and took a long pull. I never gulped down coffee, but my eagerness won out.

"Co-fee," Isabel chanted merrily. "Gimmie some." She was just too cute for words.

"Thanks to Emmett here, I think Isabel has developed a taste for coffee," Esme playfully chastised Emmett. Everyone turned to look and laughed at Emmett, but I kept my eyes trained on Isabel. The last thing I needed was him catching me looking at him.

With a deep breath, I took a bite out of the pie. It was great, not too sweet, and not too tart. However, I was still unbelievably full so I couldn't enjoy it as much.

"So I have announcement to make," Alice piped in while everyone was enjoying their dessert. Everyone grew quiet, but still continued to eat. When she was positive she had everyone's attention she began. "So I've decided that this is going to be my last semester. I've been looking into local design schools and I've applied to a few of them and opted for early decision so I should be hearing back in a few weeks."

I stared down at my plate, wide-eyed and scared to look back up. I said a silent prayer that she wouldn't mention my name.

"Not that we're not happy about it, but what brought this on?" Carlisle asked, his voice full of shock.

I closed my eyes tight and prayed harder.

"Well, it's always something I wanted to do, but never had the courage to try. Thanks to Bella, I finally mustered up the strength to take the chance."

I slumped my head lower and waited for the berating I was going to get for steering Alice down the wrong path.

"Bella? Bella was the one that convinced you to go?" Emmett asked. He didn't sound angry, but he didn't sound exactly pleased, either.

"Yeah! I can't…I'm just…so freaking happy," she replied. I still wasn't looking up, but it sounded like she was bouncing in her seat.

"And what about your parents?" Rose asked. "I thought they wanted you to stay on the education path?"

"I told them…they weren't particularly happy, but oh well. I even explained to them the same argument that Bella proposed to me, but they didn't get it." I internally groaned when she mentioned my name again, digging my hole deeper. I never wanted someone to shut up so much in my life. "It sucks that they can't be happy for me, but what can I do?" She shrugged nonchalantly.

Conversation about Alice's education continued around me, but I was still too much of a coward to look any of them in the eye. While no one accused me of steering Alice in the wrong direction, I didn't trust that they wouldn't later. I took small bites of the pie, concentrating on the flakey crust and the crimson filling. I was about half way through my slice of pie when I heard everyone around me begin to get up. Out of habit, I looked at everyone's plate and thankfully, my plate was the only one with food still on it. Despite my stomachache, I wolfed down the rest of the pie to avoid the same fiasco as before.

Everyone brought their plate to the kitchen and then reconvened in the living room. The main conversation topic was Black Friday shopping. I wasn't really paying attention, since it didn't concern me, until I heard Isabel, Edward, and house in the same sentence.

"We're just going to follow you home like we did last year," Rose spoke to Edward.

"We're going to have so much fun," Edward said as he picked up Isabel and threw her over his shoulder. She squealed playfully and had the brightest smile on her face.

"What's going on?" I inquired, curious as to what was going on.

"Isabel is staying over so Rose and Emmett can go shopping tomorrow," Edward explained. "I don't have a car seat so they're just going to follow us."

"Emmett is such a shopaholic when it comes to electronics," Rose said, rolling her eyes. "Even if he doesn't need it, he'll buy it if he thinks it's a good buy. He bought Carlisle a mini-fridge because it was on sale."

"Hey!" Emmett called out in mock offense. "Isn't that same fridge in the basement as we speak? It was an awesome buy." Everyone laughed, but all I could manage was a small smile.

Again the conversation flowed and I felt more out of place amongst these people.

"Hey Edward?" I tapped his shoulder as he continued playing with the little girl. He looked up at me with a beautiful smile that was placed because of Isabel. He looked a lot more handsome when he smiled like that. "Can I go grab a soda from the kitchen?" I wasn't particularly thirsty, but I just wanted a few moments alone.

"Yeah, sure, go ahead." I said thanks and made my way to the kitchen.

I walked slowly to give myself extra time. I opened the fridge and grabbed the first can of soda that I saw. Turning around to sit at the island for awhile, I saw Emmett enter the kitchen. Immediately, my eyes widened and my heart began to race. He stood there staring at me with a blank look on his face.

"I just grabbed a soda." I held out the can to show him that I wasn't lying and slowly walked backwards to put more distance between us. He crossed his massive arms over his chest and I could feel the shift in my brain – going into fight or flight mode. He was blocking the only exit out of the kitchen, so fleeing was not an option, leaving me only able to fight and I knew from past experience it wasn't a fight I was going to win.

"Look, I'll leave, just don't hit me," I spoke to Emmett but saw Laurent. I put my palms up defensively, trying to convey the truth of my words. For the first time since he entered the kitchen he showed some type of emotion. Unfortunately, he looked pissed.

"Hit you? I'm not gonna hit you." He shook his head in disgust, but I wasn't dropping my guard. "I just want to talk to you. Can you just sit down and stop trying to figure out a way to run out of here?" I did as he asked, knowing that complying was the smart thing to do. Thankfully, he didn't come much closer.

"You hate me, don't you?" I bravely asked. He didn't look surprised, but maybe a little defeated.

"No…but I really want to."

"Why?"

"Because Rosalie was miserable while you were gone. She cried openly when you first disappeared, but after a while she only cried when she thought no one was around. I guess she thought it was something she should be over, but she wasn't." He paused. "And then we had Isabel. Since our first date I knew that she was the one I was going to have a family with – get married and have a kid. We did things out of order, but I thought that having Isabel would make things better. And I guess it kind of worked since Rosalie was happier. I tried proposing, many times, but she always said no because she was waiting for her friend to come back." He stopped and looked directly into my eyes. The look was so intense I couldn't keep eye contact.

"So here Rosalie is unable to completely move on with her life, effectively keeping my life stationary, all because of a girl that ran away. How is that fair to anyone?" he asked rhetorically. "I spent a long time resenting you because I thought you were selfish, and honestly, I still think it was a selfish thing to do." He paused again. I kept my eyes on my lap, scared to look up. Logically, I knew it was a stupid idea to take my eyes off the threat, but I wouldn't stop any attack that came at me now. I didn't stop the tears that fell since I deserved to feel the hurt that I caused others.

"But…I want to apologize for my behavior. You didn't deserve those comments." My eyes snapped up and met his. "It was a shock to find out that you were found, and I'm still dealing. It's like confronting the person that bullied you in high school, twenty years later. I never understood your relationship with each other since I never had a friend so close, just my brother." He paused again and took a deep breath. "I want you two to be together."

There was awkward silence after he finished. My mind was still trying to rationalize that, not only he was he not looking to hurt me, but he actually apologized. When it became so quiet that all I could hear was my own breathing, I looked to see if Emmett was still in the room. He was, and he was looking right at me.

I offered the smallest smile that I could manage. "Thank you. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry for what I put your family through. It's not something I can forgive myself for."

He offered his own smile and nod, then walked out of the kitchen. However, I was only offered a few seconds reprieve before Rosalie walked in.

"You're scared of Emmett," she stated.

"What?" I asked, faking shock. "No, I'm not," I lied.

"Yes you are. And I'm not sure if I want to know why right now, but that's why I've been keeping my distance tonight. I wanted you to see that he wasn't someone you had to be afraid of. I know his size can be intimidating, but he really is a nice guy." I nodded, agreeing with her and trying to forget about his treatment of me earlier in the day.

"Do you love him? Like really love him?" I asked.

"Of course! More than anything!" Her voice had a weird mixture of offence and admiration.

"So how come every time he asked you to marry him you said no."

She looked sad and took a seat beside me. "I couldn't…and not because I didn't' love him or want to marry him. I felt like if I said yes and went ahead with it, it was like saying I accepted that you were dead or never coming back." I looked at her with utter confusion.

"Remember when we said that we were going to do everything together?" she asked, and I nodded. "Well I was serious when I agreed. Holding out was helping me keep faith that you were coming back to me, to be my maid of honor when I finally agreed to marry Emmett." She paused with a contemplative look on her face before she continued. "I'm such a horrible person," she muttered. "Through this whole ordeal, I never once asked how he was feeling. Everything was always about me and I let it go on like that. He probably thinks I don't love him." Her voice got lower and I knew she was on the verge of crying. I wrapped her in hug, comforting her the best way I knew how.

"I think he knows you love him, but I also know the shit I pulled was rough on him, too, and that's my fault." She tried to protest, but I squeezed her harder, telling her in my own way to shut the hell up. "Marry the guy, Rose. He seems like a good catch."

We stayed hugged together for a few short minutes before Rosalie literally peeled me off of her, laughing. She went to join the rest of the family while I stayed in the kitchen. My head was all over the place. I believed Emmett was sincere, but now I felt more self-loathing.

Standing up, I tried walking away from the pity party I was throwing myself, hoping that smiling faces would help my somber mood. However, the sight that greeted me broke my already shattered heart. Everyone was coupled up. Rosalie was sitting on Emmett's lap, whispering in his ear. Alice and Jasper were dancing close together to the non-existent music. Esme and Carlisle weren't in the room, but I was sure they were together somewhere else in the house, loving each other. Even Edward was looking at his niece like she was the most precious thing in the world while she slept with her head on his lap. For what felt like the hundredth time, I made up my mind. I walked carefully over to Edward, trying hard not to disturb anyone, especially Isabel.

"Can I talk to you in the kitchen for a second?" I asked, whispering in his ear so I didn't wake up the little girl. I heard his breath hitch, but he quickly agreed. I walked ahead to meet him there.

"What's up?" he asked, as he rested his elbows on the counter.

I took a deep breath. "I'm going," I stated calmly.

"We're only going to be here another hour. Do you think you can hold off until then?"

He didn't understand. "No, Edward. I don't mean to your home. I mean I'm going to New York. I feel so out of place here." He jolted up. "I'm going to tell Rose to marry Emmett without me and I'll keep in touch," I added. Edward didn't say a word, but looked extremely pissed as he stormed out of the room.

I was fucking up left and right with these people. If one person wasn't mad at me it was because someone else was. I couldn't make anyone happy. I couldn't fucking make myself happy! I copied Edward's earlier position and rested my elbows on the counter and put my head in my hands.

"Bella!" I heard Rosalie shout my name as she walked into the kitchen. "You're fucking leaving?"

I looked over her shoulder to see Edward glaring at me, a smug smirk on his face.

"What the fuck, Edward? How old are we? Are you going to run and tell Rosalie on me every time I say something you don't like?"

"Apparently, she's the only who can talk some sense into you," he said from behind Rosalie.

Rose put her hands up, telling us to stop arguing like we were five years old.

"Let's think about this rationally, okay?" Rose said calmly. "You don't want to stay in Seattle, that's fine."

"Rosalie!" Edward shouted at her, clearly shocked.

"Shut up, Edward," she fired back.

"What about going back to the house in Forks?"

"What house in Forks?" I ask slowly. I'm hoping that she isn't talking about _the_ house. She can't be talking about _the_ house. I realize that I'm shaking my head in disapproval before she even responds.

"Your parents' house…_your_ house," she says, confirming my worst fear.

**AN: Thanks for reading. Like I mentioned last chapter, I am donating an outtake from this story for Fandom For No Kid Hungry. It's going to be about Bella finding out about her parent's death, the funeral, and her "epidodes". It's an awesome cause so think about donating!**

**Follow me on Twitter & Tumblr: cruiz107 and FB: Cruiz FanFiction**


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Hey! This chapter took a little longer than usual b/c of a cold that just wouldn't go away, and still hasn't. It made me miserable. Anyhoo, I responded to a lot of the reviews before I got sick, so if I didn't respond I am truly sorry.**

**This chapter is beta'd by SerineinNC and she's so awesome.**

**All things Twilight belongs to SM**

"Rosalie," I began slowly to make sure she was absolutely, positively paying attention to only me. "My parents' house is gone. My parents are gone." I could feel the onset of a panic attack and I hadn't had one in years – not since coming to Seattle.

Rosalie began looking at me with a mixture of confusion, sadness, and maybe even some irritation. "What are you talking about? You own that house outright. It's yours to do whatever you want with it."

I began shaking my head at her ridiculous statement. I was starting to think that house made her just as crazy as it had made me.

"Don't you remember?" she asked.

"No, Rose, I don't remember!" I shouted at her, my anger finally bubbling to the surface. "I don't remember anything and thanks for throwing that shit in my face, _friend_," I spat out. My breathing was heavy and my heart was racing. I didn't intend on getting pissed at her, but it hurt more than anything that she remembered those days when I couldn't.

Rosalie was clearly upset but she didn't lash out. I was both grateful and irritated that she didn't yell back.

"I'm sorry, okay?" she began. Her voice was shaky but she was keeping her cool. "Let me just explain."

I nodded for her to go on.

"The day after the burial, your parents' lawyer came to the house." She paused, willing for me to remember at least that. It sounded familiar, but I still couldn't recall details.

"Okay," I hedged, waving my hand for her to go on.

"He read you their will. Your parents left you everything. There wasn't much cash left after bills were paid off, but the house is yours. Five months before they passed, they took ownership from the bank. There's no mortgage on it. It's yours to do with it what you want."

The house was mine? I was positive the bank foreclosed on it and took everything inside as well. This new information was shocking to say the least. Technically, this whole time I wasn't homeless. My mind was made up.

"I don't want it," I stated.

"What?" Rose and Edward both said at the same time.

"I don't want it," I repeated.

"Bella, think about this," Edward said. "You have a home you can go to – where you're stuff is at, where you're comfortable."

His pleading for me to take the house hurt a little, but I understood.

"Edward, I get that you want me to leave your house, and I can leave tonight if you want me to, but I'm not going back to that house. That house hasn't been my home since my parents died."

"What…no…that's not what I'm saying." He sounded flustered and ran his hands over his face. "That came out wrong. What I meant is that I assumed that you would want to be at the house you grew up in. You'd have your own space and just feel comfortable. This is not me throwing you out," he explained.

Before I could respond, Rosalie began speaking. Sometime while Edward was talking Emmett had entered the room without me knowing. I tried to remain cool and collected. I wasn't so much afraid of him anymore, but I was still unsure of his true feeling about me. I knew he harbored resentment against me and I completely understood.

"Bella, that house is move-in ready. I could take you there tonight if you wanted."

"How? I haven't stepped inside that house since I ran away?"

"I have a key. You know your parents gave me a key every time they changed the locks. Anyway, I try to go at least once a month to let the place air out, dust, mow."

I couldn't think…I didn't want to think about what she was telling me. It was too much too process and frankly, it was making me feel even worse that she was doing all of these things for me.

"You take it," I blurted out. "You have a family and live in an apartment. I'll sign the deed over to you and Emmett. I'll even put it under Isabel's name, but I'm not keeping that house," I said with finality. I was done and so was this conversation.

No one understood. The house held so many precious memories for me, but those last three days I spent there wiped them all clean. What if I went back and started seeing them again? Would I run away again? Probably. When my parents died they took my home with them.

"Alright. How about we just talk about this another time? Just sleep on it," Rose suggested. I agreed just to appease her. I knew I wasn't taking that house. I knew Edward wouldn't want me to live with him forever, and I'd leave when he told me to, but it wouldn't be to Forks.

The rest of the night was tension filled. I parked myself on a recliner in the living room and kept to myself, letting everything stew.

With leftovers in hand, a lot more than I remember asking for, we finally made it back to Edward's place. Despite my anger towards Rosalie, I hugged her tight and kissed her good-bye. I even managed to smile at Emmett who seemed to genuinely smile back. His dimples were a little less intimidating this time. It wasn't until Isabel was tucked into Edward's bed, as he was sharing it with her, that I finally went back to my room.

I woke the next day to the loud, joyful sound of Isabel singing. Stepping into the living room, I saw her watching some Mickey Mouse cartoon. Her words were slurred, but when I listened closely I could hear that she was actually singing the words to the song.

In one hand she held a fake microphone and in the other she held a plastic fork with scrambled eggs at the end of it. She was so carefree and happy and made me feel the same way. I stood back and continued to watch her as she finally ate the eggs, but still sang along to some song about a hot dog, I think. She added a little jig to her performance, shaking her leg like Minnie was doing in the screen. I shook my head at her antics but could literally feel myself falling in love with that little girl.

"She's a riot," Edward said from behind me. I jumped in surprise, startling Isabel.

"Lel-la," she squealed happily. "Look, Day-she," she said pointing to Minnie.

"No, baby, that's…" Edward stopped me before I could correct her.

"Don't, it's pointless. She refuses to believe that Minnie's name is not Daisy. It's a losing battle."

"Eh, to each their own. I was never a big Mickey fan in the first place."

"Yeah, me neither. You'd think her favorite character would be Minnie or Daisy. Not this one. Her favorite character is Goofy. I think it's because they look alike," he said laughing.

"They do not," I laughed with him.

"There are some eggs left in the pan for you. I tried saving you some of the sausage links but that little girl is a beast," he said seriously, but cracked a smile right after.

I sat in the kitchen eating the eggs and thinking about absolutely nothing, which was a rarity in my head. Despite the failure that was Thanksgiving yesterday, I found myself able to relax at the moment.

"Hey, Bella," Edward called as he entered the kitchen. "When she's done watching Mickey Mouse I'm going to clean her up and take her to the park. Wanna come?"

"Really?" I asked surprised. If I was still eating I'm sure I would have choked on the eggs. He nodded his head, clearly not understanding how much the invitation meant to me. "I'd love to. Let me get dressed."

I ran to the bedroom and pulled on the most comfortable jeans and sweater I owned. It was still weird that I owned more than one pair of jeans. While putting on my sneakers, an idea popped into my head. I grabbed some of the money that Jasper gave me and went in search for Edward.

"Edward, how long until we leave?" I asked when I found him sitting in the living room while Isabel was still glued to the television.

"Um, this episode just started and I still have to change her diaper and get her dressed so I'd say about half hour to forty minutes."

"Ok. I'm just going to run to the Walgreens down the street."

"Um…alright." He looked confused but didn't ask questions.

I was there and back in about twenty minutes since I was never one to browse. I always went into a store to get what I needed and left – whether I was stealing it or buying it.

"So, what did you buy?" Edward asked after he opened his front door for me.

"Look," I said as I dug in the bag. I held out the bubbles that I just bought along with the different wands. I was so excited to leave for the park already. However, the giddy feeling quickly deflated when I saw the blank look on his face.

"It was a stupid idea," I said and put them back in the bag. "I used to love blowing bubbles when I was a kid," I explained, like it would actually make me feel less awkward. "Who the hell buys bubbles for a little girl who plays with the iPad thingy?" I mumbled, starting to feel like a genuine idiot as he continued to stare at me. "Let me know when you're ready to leave." I hung my head in embarrassment and began to pass him when he grabbed my arm.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to imply that buying her bubbles was a dumb idea. I'm just surprised that you went out to buy _her_ something. That's extremely generous of you…considering." He shrugged his shoulders and smiled sheepishly. "Plus, I honestly have no idea if she's ever blown bubbles before."

"Eh, it's whatever," I replied. The excitement and anticipation was gone.

However, I was right all along. Once we got to the park and I showed her how to blow the bubbles, she was hooked. It was hard to get her to share so eventually Edward and I gave up and let her have at it all by herself.

"He-ah, take it. Jon-tin-tin." She shoved the bubbles in Edward's hand before she ran over to a little boy that was coming toward us.

"Who's that?" I asked Edward.

"That's her little friend, Jonathan. He's the only kid that she really plays with." Edward waved to the boy's parents.

I watched as she seemed to have a very animated conversation with Jonathan, but I could only make out a few words. My eyes snapped to Edward's and I smiled so wide when I heard my name, Lella, fall from her lips.

He chuckled and shook his head. "Let's go sit on the swings."

I practically skipped, unable to contain my joy. I took an empty swing in the middle and Edward sat to my right. We both sat there, lazily going back and forth while watching Isabel chase Jonathan with her finger sticking out.

"What is she doing?" I laughed.

"She's telling him to take her booger," he replied seriously before he began cracking up.

"No!" He laughed harder when he saw my shocked face.

"I'm serious! If you knew Emmett you wouldn't be so surprised." Surprisingly, hearing his name didn't make me flinch, but then again he wasn't around.

We sat in silence again and continued to watch her chase the little boy. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that Isabel was probably more like her father than her mother. Rose would _never_ do anything like that.

"You're good with kids. Do you ever think about having any yourself?" I asked Edward.

"I'm good with _her_." He nodded toward Isabel. "But yeah, I think I want some one day. Gotta find the right person, you know?" I nodded even though, no, I didn't know.

"What about you? You want kids?" He stopped swinging and looked me right in the eyes. I couldn't take the intensity of his gaze, or the shame I felt in myself, so I had to look away.

"When I was in school, I never really thought about it - I was busy with schoolwork and art. I also have to factor in that I never had a boyfriend for over a month." I paused, not knowing why the hell I was answering his question honestly when a yes or no could have easily ended this conversation. I think the fact that he has been nice to me recently kept me going. "Now," I continued, "I think that I could have been a pretty good mom."

"Why do you say it like that? Like you're sixty years old and can't have kids?"

I looked at him and cocked an eyebrow. "Seriously?" I asked. He widened his eyes, shrugged his shoulders and nodded yes. "Because I'm twenty-six with a history that is beyond fucked up, that I'm still living in. No guy in their right mind should consider getting to know me. Even if I'm able to pick myself up from everything, there are just some things that will never go away. Married with kids isn't in my future – that ship has sailed." I paused as I took in the familiar sight around me and turned back to Edward .

"I've been to this park before," I said. He looked at me confused, wondering why I changed the subject so abruptly. "You see that bench over there?" I pointed to the bench that was on the opposite end of the playground. "I slept on that bench two nights in a row this past summer."

Edward remained silent, but did eventually begin rocking back and forth again. It hurt to admit that out loud, especially to someone like Edward. He was so above it all, and rightly so, and here I was admitting that he was once again better than me and could have things that I never could.

"It's your fault, you know?" Edward said after another five minutes passed.

"I know."

He reached his hand out and grabbed the chain link on my swing, turning me sideways before completely stopping. "That's not what I mean," he said sternly. "I'm not talking about the shit hand you were dealt. I'm talking about you pushing people away."

I looked at him incredulously. "What are you talking about? There _is_ no one to push away."

"That's what I mean. There are people. There's Rose, obviously, and Emmett." I was about to counter, but he stopped me before I could. "I get your thing about Emmett, but he's not _that _guy – he can be a great friend when you let him." I nodded and looked away only to have him palm my cheek to bring my attention back to him and let go when I looked right at him. "There's Alice, who loves you already, and Jasper who thinks you're the coolest thing since sliced bread." He rolled his eyes playfully, but sobered up quickly. "And there's me." He swallowed and I did the same. "But you keep wanting to leave."

The tears were welling up when I didn't want them to. These people weren't _my_ people, sadly not even Rosalie anymore. They would never understand or be able to go at my pace. They would never understand what it feels like to keep wet, cold socks on your feet instead of taking them off to prevent them from being stolen. Or getting your hand stuck in a tampon dispense machine because they couldn't afford to buy one for a quarter. They didn't have to have sex with a man that enjoyed choking them to the point of unconsciousness, just to be able to eat. And they didn't know how much it could destroy them to have to drag your friend's almost dead body to the front of a firehouse in hopes that when her life finally leaves her body it will be treated with at least the tiniest ounce of respect.

I wasn't pushing them away, I was keeping them safe from finding out the disgrace that I had become.

"Ed-dee," Isabel came screaming, thankfully bringing me out of the downward spiral my thoughts were heading.

"Yeah, baby?" he responded, clearing his throat.

"Pezza. I wan pezza."

"Let's go get you pizza, then." With that, the conversation was over.

The rest of the afternoon passed without much fanfare. Edward made sure she was home by one o'clock so she could watch The Fresh Beat Band, then Pocoyo, and then put down for a nap. He really was good at this child care thing. I sat in their company, just enjoying being able to observe and left alone of all seriousness.

Thankfully, Edward didn't feel the need to revisit the conversation that we started at the park. I hadn't been able to fully go over what he said as I was still processing bits and pieces of it. Mainly, that he included himself as one of the people who…what? Wanted to get to know me? Wanted me to stay? It was hard to come to grips with that, especially based on the first few times that we met. Granted, he's been a lot nicer to me than he was previously, but I just think it was due to the fact that I wasn't us much of a headache as he thought I was.

"Mind if I grab a soda?" I asked. He was sitting on the sofa next to a sleeping Isabel while working on his laptop.

"You don't have to ask me _every time _you want something. Just go get it."

I nodded but didn't comment. "Do you want anything?"

"No, I'm good. Thanks."

I walked into the kitchen and scanned the fridge. I grabbed a Mountain Dew and was about to close the door when I spotted a bag of grapes. I hadn't had grapes in years and they looked so good. My head did a little dance, turning from the grapes over to the kitchen entrance and back again, as I hesitated on whether I should ask Edward or not. Eventually, I decided to take his advice and help myself. I grabbed a bunch, washed them, and put them in a bowl.

"Um…hey, I hope you don't mind, but I took some grapes." I angled the bowl so he could see that I hadn't taken many.

"No, that's fine," he answered without looking up from his computer screen.

Sitting down on the floor with my soda and bowl of grapes, I began watching the children's channel that was left on from when Isabel was awake. I had no idea what I was watching – some little yellow thing with a long crooked tail. The more I tried to figure out what kind of animal this thing was the more I felt like I was being watched. I turned my head to see Edward staring at me.

"What?" I asked, my hand stopping in mid-air, grape between my fingers.

"Why do you eat grapes like that?" he asked, sounding slightly uncomfortable.

"Like what?" I bit into the grape that was in my hand, trying to figure out what he was talking about. I chewed with my mouth closed and didn't make any noises, so I was left utterly confused.

"Like that. You bite half of the grape and slurp some of the juice. Why don't you just pop the whole thing in your mouth?"

"Oh! I dunno. They're big, plump, and juicy," I began, but stopped when I saw him shift in his seat. "I like the feel and sound of it when I bite into it. You want one?" I thrusted the bowl in his direction, but he declined, looking horrified.

"I don't have anything you can catch, ya know," I mumbled.

"Don't be ridiculous! Of course you don't," he responded like I had offended him.

"And how do you know that for sure?" I challenged.

"You have an STD?" he whisper-yelled, I suppose to not wake Isabel.

"Who the hell said anything about an STD?" I was beyond confused. "I was being stupid and talking about cooties, but tell me how you really feel."

"Sorry," he apologized lamely and stared at his screen. An awkward silence enveloped us.

"I don't, though – have anything you can catch, like hepatitis or something," I declared. "I go to the clinic after every night I, um…you know," I said, really hoping that he understood what I meant.

His face hardened and he looked back at his screen. I knew this Edward – I was used to this Edward. This was the man who was mean to me for no good reason, and he was doing it again. I don't know what I said to piss him off this time, but I really didn't want to stay and find out, either.

"I'm going to go take a nap, okay?" I asked, once again feeling, knowing, that this wasn't my space to move around freely, and definitely not now when I had irked him for some unknown reason.

"Mmhmm," he responded dismissively. Without another word, I put the uneaten grapes and soda back in the fridge and headed to the room. Sleep came quickly when I lay down, but it always did on this bed.

When I woke up it was dark outside and very quiet inside. The alarm clock on the night stand read five o'clock. I put my ear to the door to listen for anything, but heard nothing. I opened the door slowly and quietly. I could tell right away that no one was home.

Entering the kitchen, I found a note lying on the counter. According to what Edward wrote Rose and Emmett had been by and picked up Isabel. He was called into work and wouldn't be back until about eleven o'clock.

Because of what happened earlier, I didn't feel comfortable staying in his house alone. We had regressed back to the way things were when we first met. Honestly, I was surprised that he hadn't called Alice to watch me. However, I wasn't going to give him reason not to trust me. Before leaving the kitchen, I flipped the note paper over and wrote my own note, telling him I would be back tonight after he got home.

Heading back to the bedroom, I slipped on my sneakers and coat and grabbed five dollars out of Jasper's money. Thankfully, Edward's door locked automatically so I didn't have to worry about leaving it unlocked.

Walking out into the street, I randomly turned left and headed in that direction. I had nowhere in particular to go, but about six hours to kill. As I continued walking, I noticed that the area was getting familiar. The streets began to look more unkempt and many storefronts were abandoned. I was only about four blocks away from the warehouse.

Turning the corner, I bumped into a hard body. Looking up at the face, I groaned out loud.

"James," I said in acknowledgement.

His eyes went wide before smirking. "Bella! Just the person I was looking for."

**AN: Thanks for reading! **

**The o/s I donated to FAJD will be posted on May 3****rd****, so look out for that. It's my first attempt at a serious lemon. When/if you read it, let me know what you thought.**

**Twitter/Tumblr: cruiz107**

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	13. Chapter 13

**AN: This is a short chapter, I know, but I wanted to get it out there since I have to complete the outtake for FFNKH and I'm not sure when I'll be able to start the next chapter. **

**Meet me at the bottom – I have a few more things to say As always, this has been beta'd by the wonderful SereneinNC.**

**All things Twilight belong to SM.**

James was almost the last person I wanted to run into – figuratively and literally. I didn't think I was never going to see him again, because really, whatever arrangement I had with Edward wasn't going to last. I was just hoping that I wouldn't see him until I _really_ needed to.

"What do you want?" I asked, my eyes narrowed and accusing.

"Calm down. We need to talk," he responded, waving his hand dismissively.

"And what do _we_ need to talk about?" I asked, waving my finger between the two of us. He rolled his eyes and then grabbed my arm, forcing me to walk behind him. I wasn't afraid of him; I just thought he was an asshole. I followed him, though, out of curiosity. He led us over to an unoccupied bus stop bench.

"So where you been?" he asked, making unnecessary small talk.

"Eh, around; here and there," I answered, being vague on purpose.

He sighed deeply and dramatically. "Okay, frankly, I don't give a shit and we both know that." I nodded in agreement. "I have a business proposition for you," he began.

Again with the propositions! This time, however, I knew that we were on the same page.

"So there's this guy who stays at the motel every now and then, some rich dude. Anyway, we got to talking and he told me that he was looking for a steady girl for like two or three days. He asked me if I knew anyone and I thought of you," he finished like he had just told me that I had won the lottery – like I was supposed to be honored.

"Oh, well, in that case…" I said sarcastically. "What made you think of me?"

"I dunno. You just seemed like the most reliable person. Besides, I'm sure you can use the money," he said knowingly.

"How much money are we talking about?" I asked.

"Five thousand a night, so ten to fifteen thousand." He smirked when my jaw hit the floor.

"What the fuck does this guy do for a living?"

"Who knows?" He shrugged. "A lawyer, a CEO, a drug dealer - who cares, they're all fucking crooks. The point is that it's serious fucking cash and all you have to do is spread your legs and suck some cock." He had an odd sparkle in his eyes. I knew James and I knew this sparkle.

"What's in it for you?" I asked, knowing that he was daydreaming about his own payout from this whole deal. This was the closest thing I had to a pimp and I didn't like it.

"Seven large – a finder's fee if you will. As long as you two close the deal, I get paid. Here." He pulled out a business card from his wallet. "Think about it. This is his number. Call him and hear him out."

I took the card from him. The name on it was E. Yorkie with a number. That was it – nothing else. It didn't state a place of employment or title.

"What does he look like?" I asked, even though it didn't really matter. As long as they paid, they could look like Sasquatch and I'd still do the deed.

"I dunno. I guess chicks would think he's good looking. He's got black hair that's always slicked back, tailored suit, white teeth. About six feet or so, maybe two hundred pounds. Let's just say, if I swung that way I'd blow him. Actually, fuck that, if he paid me the money that's he's willing to pay you I'd blow him, gay or not."

I guess it helped a little knowing that he was at least handsome, based on what James said.

"Look, I gotta go. Like I said, think about it and what you could do with ten g's. You could even get yourself housed in a small studio for like a year with that kind of money or even get the fuck outta Seattle." He parted leaving me with his words of wisdom. I think that was the most civil he's ever been to me. Then again, he would profit from this also.

I sat on the bench for what felt like hours, thinking about the different things I could do with that money. It could actually change my life. I could get a shitty studio and have rent for at least a year. I could get a job in the mean time. I could become a productive member of society without having to fuck another guy if I didn't want to. I could even buy art supplies and start painting again.

This_ job_ could be the answer to my prayers. Maybe I could even stay in Seattle, but move to a different part of town where no one knew me. I could visit Rose and Isabel when I wanted or they could visit me.

At first thought, the offer seemed appealing. It could be the last arrangement I ever made – I could go out with a bang – no pun intended. But the more I sat and thought it through, the less sense it made. If he was as good looking as James said, then why the need to pay for sex. He was probably into some twisted shit which explained the high price that he was willing to pay.

The scenery around me grew eerily dark and quiet. It had to be at least nine or ten o'clock. Deciding to take my chances, I headed back to Edward's condo. I smiled at the doorman and made my way up to his apartment. The light was shining underneath the door. I didn't want to try the knob to see if the door was open, not feeling that it was my right to just walk in. Instead, I knocked lightly, hoping that he was still awake. I wasn't waiting a full minute before the door was flung open and I was pulled inside.

"What the hell, Bella?" Edward screeched as he slammed the door shut. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Nowhere," I answered as I stared at him with wide eyes and slightly scared. "I didn't think it was a good idea to stay here alone so I went for a walk."

"I've been here for two fucking hours. Where the fuck did you walk to?"

"I'm sorry," I quickly apologized. "You're note said you'd be back around eleven so I tried to stay out until that time."

"So you mean to tell me that while I was gone, you just _walked_?" His tone was sarcastic and unbelieving.

"Yeah. I mean, I ran into…someone and we were talking for a bit, but most of the time I was by myself.

"A friend?" he asked, his disgust clear. "Who,? Peter?"

I swallowed hard hearing his name. I hadn't thought about him since I saw him in the warehouse, but hearing his name again reminded me how I could have easily run into him tonight.

"No, not Peter. Just someone I know from around the way."

He looked at me accusingly. "Well, I have to work tomorrow. Should I have Alice keep you company?"

I read between the lines. He was asking me if I needed to be watched. He thought I was up to some shady business that I was going to bring into his home. I guess he had the right to be wary, but I wished that he had a little faith in me. I thought we were heading in that direction, but something happened that had us taking two steps back. It seemed like we were getting along just fine, but the minutes I said or did something that he didn't particularly like, he was back to being that rude man I had met on the street all those weeks ago. Half the time, I didn't even know what I said or did to upset him.

I shrugged a shoulder. "If you want; it's up to you. Or I could leave with you and come back later. Maybe hang out with Rose while you're gone."

"Rose is visiting her aunt in Portland this weekend." I knew of this aunt but I had never actually met her.

"Okay. Well I guess you'll let me know what you want me to do in the morning," I responded. I turned to head to my bedroom when I felt a tug on my wrist.

"Are…you okay? I mean, you didn't get hurt or anything, right?" He was so up and down. One minute he was irate and the next he actually gave a shit.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for asking." I offered him an appreciative smile.

He opened his mouth and looked like he was about to say something else, but closed it instead. He let go of my wrist and headed for his bedroom. I stared at him and watched as his shoulders slumped and his head bowed. Instead of going to my room, I got comfortable on the couch.

As I thought about my conversation with James and the _job _offer, I realized I never seriously considered Edward in this whole thing. If I went through with it, and I was seriously considering going through with it, then I don't think whatever kind of relationship that Edward and I had could withstand it. While I was convinced that he no longer hated me, he sure wasn't my biggest fan.

Losing Edward also meant losing everyone else, except maybe Rosalie. However, she may even be too disgusted with me if I went that route. As sad as it was, I knew that this is what I had to do, despite what everyone else would think, say, or even do. I needed this.

I slowly slouched down on the couch until I was completely lying down. It pained me to have to make such a decision, but my options were truly limited.

I stared ahead at nothing in particular, thinking about everything I was going to allow myself to lose and not allowing myself to think of anything I was going to gain. It was easier if I thought negatively so I didn't set myself up for disappointment. I kept thinking this was something that was definitely going to go down, but this Yorkie guy could still refuse my services.

I don't know when I had fallen asleep, but I was jostled awake. The light was streaming through the blinds and I could hear the birds competing with the traffic.

"Hey, I'm just letting you know that I'm heading out now," Edward said as he put on his coat. I was still trying to figure out how I had fallen asleep on the couch while he kept talking. "Alice will be here around noon."

"A-huh," I answered, still trying to comprehend what he was telling me through my sleep-fogged brain.

True to his word, two minutes past noon, Alice walked through the door. I had been fiddling around with the card that James had given me and wasn't paying attention to the time. As quick as I could, I shoved the card in my bra, ensuring that Alice wouldn't see it.

"Hey Alice," I began, but immediately stopped. "What's wrong?" I asked when I took in her appearance. She was dressed in sweats, sporting a messy up-do, and looking absolutely miserable.

"Nothing," she said, waving me off. "The thermostat broke yesterday, and the house was blazing hot so we put on the air conditioner when we went to sleep. Every time we use the air conditioner again after not using it for awhile, I always wake up with a cold."

"Oh, that sucks. I usually get about four colds a year – one every time the season changes. Funny enough, I've never had the flu."

"_That_ sucks," she said, pointing to me. "I hate having summer colds. Anyway, don't mind me. I'm just gonna park my grumpy ass on the couch and sleep for a bit."

"Alice, you really shouldn't have come." I felt so guilty since I was probably the only reason she got out of bed this morning. "I could have found something to occupy my time."

"Nah, it's okay. Jasper is conveniently off on the day they're running a medical marathon on TLC, or some channel."

"Okay, well I'm going to use the bathroom. Let me know if you need anything."

With a nod and a wave she sent me off. I took a shower, simply as something to calm my nerves. I was about to make the phone call to Yorkie and I felt like my emotions were still all over the place. It didn't help that Alice would now be in the house while I made the phone call.

While dressing in the bathroom I tried to figure out a way to sneak the cordless phone into my room from the living room without Alice seeing. If she did, she was surely going to ask me who I was calling and it wasn't like I could tell her the truth. However, everything was for naught when I saw she was fast asleep on the couch. I could never break it to her, but Alice was a snorer who drooled.

I grabbed the phone and ran as quietly as I could back to my room. I locked the door just to ensure that Alice couldn't sneak up on me while I was still on the phone. Taking a few, or a lot, of deep calming breaths, I finally worked up the courage to call.

"Hello?" A smooth, attractive sounding voice answered.

"Hi,this is Bella; I believe James told you about me."

"He did," he replied, offering nothing else.

"Okay, well I wanted to know if you were interested in meeting or something – to talk about your offer," I clarified.

"Based on the things James has told me about you I think that I'm ready to commit. The only things that we need to discuss are some of my own requirements." His voice dripped confidence and finality.

"I have some rules of my own that need to be laid out."

His laughter was smooth; he truly sounded humored. "With the money that I'll be paying you, I don't think you have much of a say in how I run this show." I had no response so I remained quiet. He must have taken my silence for agreement because he went on as if nothing was wrong. "Tomorrow, around six, meet me in front of James' motel. We'll do a trial run, if you will. Whether this works out or not, you'll get paid for one night. If we are…compatible, expect to be with me for three nights."

"Okay," I muttered, still completely at a loss. I didn't expect this conversation to be so one-sided. He made a point when he mentioned the payment. I had never taken a job with such a huge payout and it felt wrong to feed him my list of demands. I had a weird knot forming in my stomach, but pushed the feeling away. I needed this to work out.

"We'll talk more after we get to…_know_ each other better," he said, then hung up. This didn't feel right, but these jobs never did.

The fact that he was so vague about everything was a huge red flag that I forced myself to ignore. My only concern now was explaining to Edward that I would be gone a few days.

**AN: Thank you to everyone who continues to read, review, alart, fav. And thank you to however it was that rec'd this story over at ADF. I responded to a lot of reviews and planned on doing more, but this update was not planned so…**

**First off, I was nom'd over at TLS for fic of the week *wink wink* (http:/www. tehlemonadestand. net)**

**Second, I was nom'd for a Wordsmith Award for Best Angst. Voting begins 5/17 thru 5/26 (http:/ wordsmithawards. blogspot. se/)**

**Third, the o/s that I donated to FFJD is now posted on my profile. Shelves, Pegs, and Endless Baskets. I guess it could be considered a sexy comedy, I dunno. Read it and you tell me.**

**I think that's it…**

**Twitter/Tumblr: cruiz107**

**FB: Cruiz FanFiction.**


	14. Chapter 14

**AN: Sorry for the wait, but I did get the outtake done for F4NKH.**

**Thanks for all the reviews. I tried to respond to as many as I could. There were also some that had their PM disabled and I could respond.**

**SerineinNC beta'd this…and she's awesome.**

**WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS VERY SERIOUS CONTENT THAT MAY BE TO SENSITIVE TO SOME**

**All things Twilight belong to SM. **

I couldn't look at Alice the rest of the day. I hadn't even done anything yet, but I still felt so ashamed. It wasn't like this was something that I could explain to her as to what I was doing and why. I knew that this wasn't the right thing to do; in fact, it was downright fucking stupid, but this was the best option for me. I hate to say it, but this is what I knew – spreading my legs for money. Now that I thought about it, I don't know if Alice even knew about my past in prostitution, or more appropriately, present.

It was even harder when Edward came home. I tried steeling myself all day to talk to him, like adults, but chickened out every time I opened my mouth to say something. The only thing that made it slightly easier was that he was still in a sour mood. But even still, keeping this from him was killing me. He deserved better than me sneaking out to do one of the things he forbade me to do in order to stay with him. More than likely, I wasn't coming back here after I was done with Mr. Yorkie, but that was something I had to worry about in a few days. If everything goes the way it should, I would have enough money to sustain myself for a long time.

So the next day, I prepared for my departure. Alice was still miserable with her cold, so like yesterday, she went to sleep almost as soon as she got here. I dressed in the clothing that I had on when I first came to stay, leaving everything that was purchased for me behind. It made things easier that I literally had nothing but the clothes on my back. I even left what money was left from Jasper. I might even get to pay him back after all this was done.

I spent the day with Alice, sitting around watching movies with her, trying to ease my guilty conscience. I had to wait until the perfect opportunity before I could make my getaway. It was like clockwork – Alice used the restroom every time around four o'clock. So after she dutifully retreated to the bathroom, I quickly but quietly ran to my bedroom to grab my coat and slip on my sneakers. I made one detour to the kitchen to stick the note I had already written on the counter. I really wanted to say bye to Alice since this could very well be the last time I saw her, but if I did, she'd try and stop me.

Killing time was easier than I thought it would be. My mind was racing, taking the minutes with it. Sooner than I would have liked, I was entering the all too familiar motel where I spent many nights in shame for what I had done to secure a room.

James sat in his usual chair behind the security glass watching his little black and white television, adjusting the rabbit ears. I tapped on the glass to get his attention. He didn't look right away, but when he did, his eyes went wide and a grin began to form. With his free hand he ushered me to come around the counter.

"Hey," I greeted him. I hadn't felt this unsure around him since our first encounter.

"Hey. You ready for this?" he asked. His tone was surprisingly curious and maybe a bit concerned.

"I dunno, I guess. I don't know why it feels so…different, wrong. I mean, I do this all the time."

"Maybe it's the money. I doubt you've ever screwed someone for this amount of money."

This was the most civil conversation that we've ever had, and his lack of sleaziness was helping a little.

"Have you gotten paid, yet? Is he here?" I asked.

"He gave me half – told me I'd get the other half if it worked out." He shrugged. "It wasn't what we agreed to in the first place, but it's still a good chuck of money. As long as you don't fuck it up then I'll get my other half," he said, amused. I didn't know if he was joking or not – probably a mixture of both.

"Here." He handed me a key, Room 27. He pursed his lips in concentration and I didn't know if I was excused or if I should wait for him to say something. "Do you have condoms?" he asked suddenly. I shook my head, feeling like an idiot for not even thinking about condoms. He shuffled through the bottom draw of his desk. He handed me three foil packages. "It's all I got. Maybe he'll have some."

"Thanks." I grabbed the small packages, studying them, prolonging the inevitable. This felt so fucking wrong. This _is_ so fucking wrong. But I had to think about me and what would help me in the long run. Unfortunately, spreading my legs was my only profitable skill. "I'll see you later."

My feet felt like they were being weighed down, making each step impossibly harder. My head was pounding, my palms were unnaturally sweaty, and my chest was tight. My own body was warning me, telling me to turn around, but my head was already in it – already spending the money I would get after the ordeal was done. With a heavy heart, I climbed the flight of stairs and walked to the assigned room.

My raised hand lingered in front of the door, not yet ready to knock and announce my presence. I realized I was waiting for something, maybe someone, to stop me and tell me I didn't have to do this and that everything would be okay if I walked away. Maybe if I had told someone they would have stopped me; tell me I was better than all this. But I hadn't given anyone that opportunity – I was completely on my own and probably for good.

It was now or never and I couldn't _not_ go through with it knowing how much money was involved.

The door opened slowly, revealing an extremely handsome man. His hair was black, so black it almost looked blue. It was slicked back and shiny. His eyes were a steely blue, with an extremely penetrating gaze. As he looked me over, slight crinkles appeared around the edges. His lips were a lot fuller than I would expect a male to have, but not overly so where they would appear feminine. He stood about six feet or so, but it was hard to estimate his build underneath his fitted suit that he wore well. He was probably well toned.

He was the second most handsome mean I had ever met. His hair was too neat, his eyes were too light, his lips were too full. Despite his almost perfect features, they weren't for me.

"Why didn't you use the key James gave you?" he said when he was done giving me the once over. His voice was too rough; not silky enough. He opened the door wider to let me in without even asking me if I was the person he was waiting for.

"Sorry," I finally managed to say. "I put them in my pocket and forgot about them." I dug them from my back pocket and tossed them on the small night table. He nodded and didn't look too pleased.

"Want a drink?"

"_Fuck yes. A strong one_," I thought, but managed a, "Please." He poured a yellowish-gold liquid into a highball and passed it over. I took it and raised it in the air, a silent cheers. I sipped it slowly to taste it first.

Tequila? He didn't take me for a tequila drinker. This particular alcoholic beverage reminded me too much of…nightclubs? College? Just not this business-looking gentleman. I downed the rest, needing the liquid courage as quickly as it would come. It burned all the way down.

"Another?" he asked when I passed the glass back.

"I'm good, thanks," I declined politely. I was never a heavy drinker before and I knew I couldn't take much after not having alcohol in so long. I wasn't even taking into consideration that I hadn't eaten and my nerves were shot. Another round would definitely not do me any good.

"Alright. Have a seat; we need to go over a few things before we start." He motioned toward the bed, indicating that's where he wanted me to sit. Suddenly, it became very real. Once I was finally seated, he began. "Just a few things before we begin – not much." I nodded. "Well, like I told you, tonight is a trial run to see how we…connect." I nodded again. "I won't be pushing too hard tonight, but I do want to get a feel of what I'm working with." His words brought a slight relief. "Lastly, your name is going to be Irina tonight," he told me.

His last request wasn't unusual as I've been given many aliases. However, his voice turned cold, hard as he said the name. Most likely, he was lusting after someone named Irina.

"And lastly, you'll get paid when we're done." Without waiting for me to say anything, he began loosening his tie and removing his jacket. I hated to admit that I was more than curious to see what his naked body looked like. "Get undressed," he ordered, a little harshly. "Everything."

I needed this to go right so I did what I was told quickly. I removed my coat and tucked my sneakers under the bed. Every article of clothing that I removed was folded and neatly put on the desk chair. I was so wrapped up in the deed of undressing that I hadn't realized that he was standing only in his Calvin Klein boxer briefs. I don't know if it made it better or worse to see that his body was very well sculpted. However, my mind began to wonder what Edward's naked body looked like.

It was uncomfortable to stand naked in front of him as he took another sip from his glass watching me.

"What's your name?" I blurted. "Like your first name, or should I call you Mr. Yorkie?" I thought maybe if I at least knew his first name it would ease some of the tension I felt. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. I fought the urge to roll my eyes. He could give me a fake name for himself, too, for all I cared. I just didn't want to call him Mr. Yorkie.

"Eric." It suited him – he looked like an Eric.

He carefully placed his glass next to my empty one and strode over to me confidently. From behind me he ran a hand from my hip bone to underneath my breast.

"You're a little too thin for my liking, Irina," he whispered in my ear. I was too skinny for _my_ liking, so he wasn't telling me something I didn't already know. "But these," he cupped both breasts from behind, "are practically perfect." He ran his thumbs over my already hard nipples. I hoped that he didn't think he elicited the response – it was chilly in the room. "They're surprisingly soft and perkier than I'm used to."

I tried to listen to his words, hoping that I could feel at least the smallest amount of arousal.

While tweaking my nipples he began kissing along my neck. I could feel a little moisture building.

"You're quite beautiful, Irina," he said into my neck. He removed one hand from my breast and slowly began moving it south. He inserted one finger in and then quickly removed it to then start rubbing my clit in quick circles. "You're good, already wet, Irina," he murmured in between kisses, tweaks, and rubs. "But tell me, are you thinking of me or someone else?" he asked sweetly. My eyes widened at his question, fear heating my whole body. Immediately, I knew this wasn't going to be good.

"I have a feeling that you're thinking of _him_," he said harshly, his kisses becomes hard nips on my skin. "Lay on the bed," he ordered. He was getting irritated, but I couldn't tell why. I hadn't uttered one word since his advancement. "Spread your legs and bend your knees," he instructed when I was lying down.

I could see him from my position on the bed as he removed the only piece of clothing he had on. As he came toward me I could clearly see he was hard, despite our short interaction. He climbed on top of my, his erection right on top of my folds. Immediately and without warning he took my left breast into his mouth, sucking and biting painfully hard. His other hand squeezed my right breast and I could swear it felt like he was going to literally rip it off.

"Stop, please…you're being too rough," I pleaded, hoping he would calm down. He stopped and gave me a deathly glare.

"_You_ don't get to tell me what to do. With the kind of money I'm paying you should be glad that there's foreplay, giving you pleasure," he spat. He was crazy if he thought this was enjoyable foreplay. "From now on, know you're place and speak only when you're spoken to."

I nodded and closed my eyes, hoping I could forget the pain and find something in his touch that was pleasurable. He continued sucking, biting, squeezing while I tried to keep my breathing even. After another few minutes of painful groping he spoke again.

"I bet Jared doesn't make you feel good like this," he said, as he rubbed his cock along my dry folds.

I realized three things in that moment. One, he was crazed. Two, Irina was someone of importance and I was about to pay for her mistakes. And three, I had to get out of here, money or no money. However, he was resting all of his weight on me. I couldn't push him off if I tried.

"Eric, please. We need to stop. I don't want to do this anymore," I cried. I tried shoving him off of me by his shoulders, but that only caused him to lean down heavier on top of me.

As I was about to open my mouth to beg again, he hand flew out, striking me. Pain soared through my right cheek and caused an immediate headache.

"I told you, you don't get to talk," he yelled. "Now shut the fuck up and listen for once you dumb cunt. I bet if I was Jared my cock would already be jammed down your throat."

I wanted to scream, tell him I wasn't Irina, but he wasn't stable and that didn't bode well for me.

"You can never let me enjoy things, can you?" he seethed, and began stroking himself. "Even when I try to take your needs into consideration, you still have to be a fucking bitch." He stroked faster.

He shoved his erection into me. The lack of moisture made it incredibly painful. I tried to stifle my cries, but failed. I don't know if he mistook them for cries of pleasure or simply didn't care that I was in pain, but he began thrusting faster. I was going to bleed, I was sure of it.

"Does Jared fuck you like this?" Sweat had already formed on his brows and he was biting his bottom lip. "No one fucks my wife better than me."

My hands reached into his hair and pulled hard, hoping that if I pulled hard enough he would get off of me. However, it only spurred him on.

"That's right, baby. There's the slut I married." I could taste his salty sweat as it dripped onto my lips.

I felt like I was being ripped in two. His thrusts were hard, angry. Every time his hard hips met my boney ones it felt like a kick. I tried wiggling my body from underneath his, but he again misread my actions. It didn't matter at this point, though, if he understood what I wanted or not. He was clearly going to take want _he_ wanted.

When I could no longer feel his body weight on me, I thought he was finally going to let me go. That hope was fleeting as he flipped me over onto my stomach. His body was on me faster than I could take a full breath.

"Wait, wait," I said in an effort to buy myself some more time. "Um…you don't have a condom on," I used as an excuse, remembering the condoms that James had given me on the way up.

He chuckled. "Ah, Irina, we both know you like to go bareback. Don't get shy on me now, sweetheart." I couldn't get another word in edgewise before he rammed himself back into me. His hands were on my shoulders, forcing my body to meet his every thrust. I felt like my whole body was on fire, burning me from the inside out. My breaths were more like pants as I tried my hardest not to cry and give this man what he probably wanted.

His hands slowly trailed down my shoulders, arms, the outline of my breasts before he placed them underneath my body, bringing me up to all fours. Despite what I really wanted, I prayed that I was able to become a little wet to make his movements less painful. But my body knew I didn't want this.

He began trailing his hands down my body again, holding on to my hips for the briefest moment, before continuing down to my bottom. I was concentrating so hard on trying to become aroused that I hadn't noticed that he had removed one of his hands. The loud and sharp smack on my ass had me crying out in pain.

"You still like that don't you, Irina? You're still my kinky girl." He rubbed the spot he just smacked only to slap it once again. "If you like that then I know you still have to like this." He pressed his thumb to my tight hole.

My body went rigid as he applied more pressure. I tried scampering away again, but he hovered his body over mine, wrapping one of his arms around my waist.

"You don't think that I knew what you and Jared did while I was away?" he whispered in my ear. "I know everything and if you're going to let my errand boy fuck you here, then so am I."

Faster than I could shudder a breath, he shoved himself into my tightest hole.

"No," I cried out in pain. Holding back tears was no longer an option. The pain was indescribable. I could literally feel myself tearing. "Please stop!" I begged as I tried crawling away. His hands held me forcibly in place. His fingers dug into my hip bone.

In and out. In and out.

"Please," I cried. "Stop!" My cries spurred him on. He thrusted harder and went deeper. I couldn't hold myself up any longer. My knees gave out and my hands weren't strong enough to hold my weight. As my body went down, so did his. I cried and screamed into the mattress, cursing his name and wishing for his death. I thrashed my legs, but he was determined. Another few seconds and he stilled, surely coming inside of me.

I cried harder in relief when he finally extracted himself from me. Despite the protest from my aching body I quickly crawled to the top of the bed and brought the duvet up to cover my naked body. My ass hurt and my eyes were swollen from crying, but I tried my best to watch his every move.

He grabbed a towel to wipe himself with. When he ran it over his length, I could clearly see the towel soiled with blood. He tossed the dirtied towel in the direction of the bathroom and began redressing. His face was beaded with sweat, his hair was disheveled, and his chest heaved up and down with labored breaths. Casually, he put his suit jacket back on as I remained white knuckling the sheet to my body. I eyed him as he reached in his wallet.

"This isn't going to work out. My wife's a better lay." He tossed a fifty on the bed and walked out of the rented room.

I stared at the door as it slammed shut and continued to stare long after he was gone. I could feel the tears as they slowly began running down my cheeks. I was in so much pain, in all ways possible. But most of all, I hurt for knowing that I did this to myself. I accepted what he did to my body when I agreed to meet him tonight. Not only had I allowed myself to be violated and abused, but I allowed myself to walk away from the people who had done nothing but care for me these past weeks by being here tonight.

I wanted nothing more than to go back to Edward's and apologize for leaving so abruptly, but I didn't think that was an option any longer.

Slowly, I reached over and picked up the receiver of the phone that was bolted to the nightstand and dialed the only number I knew. Someone answered three rings later.

"Rosalie?" I sobbed into the mouthpiece.

"It's Emmett."

**AN: …so yeah. Review?**


	15. Chapter 15

**AN: This chapter is for everyone who is sticking with me after the last chapter. Your support means the world to me.**

**As always, beta'd by the wonderful SereneinNC**

**All things Twilight belong to SM.**

"Bella? Is that you?" he asked. I could hear rustling from the other line; it sounded like he was in the process of standing up.

"Yeah," I croaked out, trying my hardest not to cry to him over the phone. "Is…is Rosalie there?" I hiccupped. My throat was tightening the more I struggled not to cry, and my vision was becoming blurry.

"No, she won't be here for another few hours." There was a pause before he continued. "Bella, what's wrong? Did something happen?" The concern in his voice finally pushed me over the edge and I cried tears that caused my chest to ache.

"Bella! Bella, please tell me what happened. Where are you; where's my brother?" he asked frantically. Despite my loud sobs, I could hear him pacing. I tried to stop crying long enough to answer him.

"I left him. I'm so sorry." The tears wouldn't hold off long enough for me to explain the right way.

"Bella!" he shouted, trying to get my attention. "Listen to me. Tell me where you are; I'm on my way."

Through cries, hiccups, and coughs I was able to finally give him the address of the motel and the room number. He hung up with promises that everything was going to be alright, but I knew better. Nothing was going to be better. How does it get better? How do you come back from something like this?

Somehow, I slowly managed to find the strength to get dressed. My whole body ached, which made the mundane task an absolute chore. Leaving my shoes off, I climbed back to the top of the bed and wrapped the sheets around myself again. They smelled of salt and filth, but still brought a fractional amount of security.

As I sat in the room, alone, I tried not to let my mind wander and bring back the pain and humiliation of moments ago. I was marginally successful until my mind involuntarily began playing Six Degrees – everything leading back to Rosalie and Edward. They weren't going to look past this and I had no right to expect them to.

Tears began falling again as I realized all the ways I had fucked up. In thinking that I was doing this to put myself in a better position, I was screwing myself over. I wasn't even sad about what just happened. Angry, irate? Yes! I was once warned about shit like this - that if I made bad decisions bad things would happen. This was a slap in the face to anyone who has ever cared about me in some form or another.

Eventually, my tears dried, and self-loathing became my dominant emotion. I wanted to take everything back; be Edward's prisoner like I once told him I felt like.

There was a loud knock on the door. Emmett practically stormed in before I even answered.

"Are you ok? Are you alone?" he asked as he ran from the entrance to the bathroom.

"There's no one here anymore."

"Can you tell me what happened now?" he pleaded. Seeing the concern on his face was worse than hearing it in his voice, but my tears were not deserved, so I controlled them the best I could.

"I…I think…I was raped. I don't know."

"What?" he screamed, jolting up from the bed. "What do you mean you think? How do you not know?"

His anger was a little frightening, but it was like I had an epiphany tonight. Emmett would never hurt me, and in his own way he cared about me, even if it was only for Rosalie's sake. This realization may have come a little too late, but it came.

"Because I came here willingly? Because he paid me? Because I didn't say no right away?"

"This is fucked up on so many levels," he groaned. He took a deep breath. "Listen to me, I don't give a shit if you said no right away or when he was already balls deep. No is no is no. If you said no and he still kept going, then it's considered rape. Do you understand me?" he asked fiercely. I nodded, not knowing what else to say.

"Can I ask you something else?" I nodded again. "You said he paid you and you came here willingly?" he whispered, looking me directly in the eyes.

"Yeah," I whispered back.

"Why?" He seemed almost distraught.

I couldn't offer him an explanation that he would understand. That seemed to be my gripe with everyone – they didn't understand.

"This isn't the first time _this_ happened to me. The first time I was…you know," I said, waving my hand instead of using the word rape. I hated that word. "The first time it almost happened was when I first arrived in Seattle. I had food, like _good_ food, and someone else wanted it, so when I wasn't paying attention some guy crept up on me. He took the bag with food and held me down. I was so fucking freaked out; nothing like that happened in Forks or Port Angeles. Anyway, before anything could happen Jane came along. They knew each other so she got him to back off." It physically hurt recalling those days.

I could remember that day like it was yesterday. Jane was a little thing with the presence of a tiger. People seemed to respect and fear her at the same time.

"She stayed with me that night. It was like she shed this whole new light on living in the streets that I wasn't even aware of – things that I didn't even consider. She told me that my body was either going to keep me alive or kill me. I had no idea what she meant and looked at her like she was completely insane, but after she explained it to me, it made sense."

"Can you explain it to me because I don't understand," he cut in.

"Jane was a prostitute; used her body to get what she needed. She was never starving, never cold."

"But she was homeless?" he asked, sarcasm on full blast.

"Yeah. Aside from never being hungry or cold, she never went through withdrawal. She had a bad drug problem. That's one good thing I can say for myself – I've never touched the stuff. Anyway, she also explained to me that if I wasn't careful, if I didn't trust my own feelings, that my body could be my worst enemy." If she could see me now, she would kick my ass. Even when they were dead, I seemed to disappoint people.

"So after going without food for like two days, I finally gave in. Some guy gave me twenty bucks to have sex with him. I cried the whole time, but I ate like a king afterward. That first night, it didn't feel worth it. I never felt more disgusting in my life. But as time went on and getting food or shelter became harder, selling myself became easier. And as silly, or stupid, as it may sound, Jane was always there, holding my hand when I needed it. She was like my replacement Rosalie, and in a twisted way she told me about this lifestyle to help me."

"Where is she?" he asked, in the softest voice I'd ever heard him use, probably already knowing the answer.

"She died."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said sincerely.

"Not as much as I am."

"If you don't mind, how did she die?"

"She had AIDS. This environment isn't exactly ideal for trying to keep your immune system healthy. The day she died, though, it was like she knew." I tried to forget that day, and I was doing a decent job up until recently. My chest ached so much.

Emmett stayed silent; I assume taking it all in. I didn't expect him to be my best friend now or have all this sympathy for me now that he knew something no one else did, but it felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders by letting someone else in.

"Does Rosalie know about any of his? What you've done?"

I shook my head. "No. She still likes me despite what I've put her through. What I put both of you through. I didn't want to lose her friendship."

"You have to tell her; I can't keep something like this from her. I called her…"

"Please don't tell me…" He held up his hand to stop me from talking.

"I was going to tell her, but she's on the road with our baby. She'd be too hysterical to drive safely and that's not a risk I'm willing to take." To say I was relieved was an understatement.

"Why'd you call Rose in the first place, if she doesn't know about all this?"

"She's the only number I know. Plus, I doubt Edward would want to speak with me."

Emmett let out a low whistle. "I actually called Edward on my way here," he admitted. My jaw went slack and my eyes went wide. "For a lack of a better word, he's fucking pissed. I was going to tell him, but I thought it might be better for you if he calmed down first. I hung up with a promise to call him later."

It hurt to hear what I already knew. His reaction didn't surprise me. What did surprise me, though, was that his anger made Emmett feel he wasn't stable to be around me at the moment.

"Are you religious?" Emmett asked randomly.

"No," I snorted.

"Well, I am. I'm not like go-to-church-every-Sunday religious, but I pray and ask God to see me through things. And I also believe that everything happens for a reason."

"Yeah? So tell me the reason my parents had to die," I spat. I hated the talk of religion and God and faith. God? God was a joke, a hypocrite. I may not have been religious now, but I was familiar with the Bible. In the Old Testament, God is vengeful, mean even, testing everyone's faith. Then in the New Testament he's supposed to be what? Loving, forgiving? Please.

"I don't know; sometimes the reasons aren't black and white. I hate to say this, and please don't take it the wrong way, but tonight was your wake up call. It's almost like you keep repeating your mistakes. You abandoned your old life, hurting people in the process, and you did it again tonight. You need to realize that your actions have consequences for, not only yourself, but for the people in your life now. I'm not just talking about Rosie, but Alice, my brother, Jasper, even Isabel. What you did tonight was really selfish. And please don't think that I'm trying to be insensitive – taking away from the trauma that you went through. It's just that you seem…calm at the moment, not like before, and it's a little weird."

I laughed sadly. "Maybe I'm used to it? Numb? Fuck, maybe I'm just not right in the head," I said, close to crying at how true that statement was. My sanity was questionable to say the least.

"I went to this seminar with Rosalie once when she volunteered at a women's shelter. They had this therapist, a lady, who spoke. I don't remember everything she said, but there was this one thing that kind of stuck out. Why? I have no idea. She said that there's no right or wrong way to be a victim. Maybe you just don' know how to deal, or _this_ is you dealing. I mean, it has to be different now than it was before."

"I'm tired, Emmett," I whispered after the room was quiet for too long. "And I thought before that I had enough of my life, but I guess deep down I wasn't ready to move on. Tonight helped me see that _now _I am. I don' know what's going to be waiting for me when I leave this motel, but I'm willing to find out. I wanted the fastest, easiest solution before, but I'm willing to take the baby steps now."

Emmett smiled brightly. "I think that's a great idea. What's your first step?

"Admitting that I have a problem?" I chuckled humorlessly. "I'm gonna come clean to Rose, Edward, Alice. Hell, maybe even your parents. Do you think Rose is going to hate me?" That would completely break me, but it was something that I should have considered before. If she indeed wanted nothing more to do with me, especially because she had Isabel to protect, I couldn't begrudge her that.

"Hate? No, I don't think so. I know for a fact she'll be hurt and probably feel extremely guilty. You have to understand that Rose takes complete blame for everything. She'll probably add this to the pile."

I hated myself more than anything hearing this, despite hearing it before. I hated myself more for doing that to her than any of my own self-destructive behavior. I needed her to understand that my own cowardice drove me away. Rosalie was always my light when the world around me was dark. I loved her more than I loved myself.

"Though you seem…unnervingly calm, I think I need to take you to the hospital. This is not something we can just gloss over – you need to get checked out. And do a rape kit…"

"No," I said adamantly. "No rape kit. I'm fine. I just want to go…" There was nowhere to go.

"But what about the person who did this to you? We need to do something." He become frantic again, his calm demeanor out the door. It was odd how he was able to switch his emotions and actions so quickly.

"For what? It's his word against mine. All he's gonna say is that he paid to have sex with me, and it wouldn't be an outright lie."

"Do you know the name of the person that did this to you?" His tone was hopeful, as if he was going to personally go out and catch the bad guy, but I wanted to let it go and move on with my shitty existence.

"No," I lied.

"Bella, please. I think Jasper's on call tonight; we can get him to look you over, even if you forgo the rape kit," he was pleading now. "If not for you, then Rosalie. Think of how much better it will make her feel if she knows you have been looked over by a doctor." I narrowed my eyes at him, pissed that he pulled the Rosalie card.

"Fine," I agreed through clenched teeth. "But only if it's Jasper."

He walked next to me as we went down the stairs and I could see his sideway glances my way – he was concerned. As we passed the lobby, I saw James sitting in his usual seat as he played with his old TV.

"Emmett, let me meet you at the car. I need to return the key," I lied. I didn't even have the key with me, not that I cared.

"I can go with you, or I can just do it for you. Maybe I should return it and you go rest in the car."

"No, it's okay. I got it. I'll only be a second." Without another word he began walking to his car. Not wanting to waste anymore time, or be here longer than necessary, I walked quickly into the lobby. I banged the door opened, startling James and causing him to jump.

"What the fuck?" he screeched. "You almost gave me a god damn heart attack."

"Did you know?" I asked as calmly as I could.

"Know what?" he asked, returning to his rabbit ears.

"Were you in on the shit with Eric? How much did he pay you to lie to me and keep your fucking mouth shut?" I asked, my calm façade deteriorating with every word I spoke. His eyes snapped to me, the rabbit ears forgotten. The force in which he bolted up from his chair sent it flying and hitting the nearest wall.

"What the hell are you talking about? Where is he?" he looked over my shoulder, searching, I guess, for Eric.

"Give me a break, James," I scoffed. "You know god damn well he left."

"What? He roared, banging his fists on the counter. "That mother fucker owes me money."

"Serves you right, you scumbag. What kind of person takes money to allow another person to…violate someone?"

"Either explain what you're talking about, because I have no fucking clue, or go find that cocksucker. I want my money."

As I looked at James' angry, and maybe a little confused, face, it made me laugh on the inside. Eric conned James, too. A small chuckle burst out. A small, very small, part of me felt relieved to know that I wasn't the only one played in his twisted game.

"What the fuck are you laughing at?" he seethed.

"You don't get it do you? There is no fucking money! Eric is gone. You're just as fucking stupid as I am," I laughed. At this point if I didn't laugh, I was going to cry and that was not an option. I had a moment of weakness when I called for Rosalie, but that's all it was – a moment.

I walked away without giving him any more details as to what happened or why there was no money or no Eric. Emmett was waiting patiently in his car, playing with the radio.

"All set?" I nodded. "I called Jasper and he's already at the hospital," he said, solemnly.

"Thanks, I guess."

"It's gonna be alright, you know."

"I know. I feel fine," I assured him.

"That's not what I mean," he replied, shaking his head. "This is a setback, to say the least, and I'm pretty sure no one is going to happy with you, especially Edward or Alice, but you're going to get through it. I see something in you that I didn't see on Thanksgiving. Maybe it's determination? Maybe you finally realize that your life doesn't have to be the shithole that you think it is, but I see a difference. I just hate that this had to happen for you to realize it."

I swallowed around the lump in my throat and roughly wiped away the tear that formed in the corner of my eye.

"Would you be mad if I hung around Rosalie and Isabel more?" I asked as I stared out the window, scared to actually face him.

"You don't have to be so shy, you know." There was a hint of teasing in his voice. "I'm not going to say no. I think that's actually a good idea. I know that since you two have reconnected there hasn't been much time to get together." We stopped at a red light. "I know I wasn't the nicest person to you when we met, but I was still pretty angry, but not so much anymore. I think she needs you just as much as you need her."

"Thank you." I had to swallow that lump again.

"No problem, but there is one thing." I nodded for him to continue. "I don't think you will, but you have to promise me that you won't do what you did tonight. I can't have this around my wife and kid. Do you know what Rosalie would have done if she knew about all this?" He shook his head sadly.

"I already told Edward before I wouldn't," I admitted sadly.

"But I have something Edward doesn't have. I have the key to your past and the possibility of a great future – I have Rosalie," he replied confidently.

"Edward's a good guy, too. He was trying to help me," I whispered.

"No, he's a great guy, but his head his too far up his own ass to think clearly." There was a few minutes of silence before either one of us spoke again.

"Do you take offense easily?" he asked.

"No, never really did."

"Okay, so don't take this he wrong way, but I think you should get some help. I mean you're doing more than well right now, but I can almost guarantee it's not going to stay like this," he said as he gave me fleeting glances while watching the road. "This calm demeanor, or whatever it is, isn't going to stay calm."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I wasn't offended or angry, but genuinely curious.

"Bella, you were just…you know," he said, waving his hand, having a hard time using the specific word, like I had before. "So put that on top of losing your parents, living in the streets, prostituting. Color me ignorant, but that can't be something easy to carry all by yourself. You need help."

"I know." He looked at me incuriously.

"You know? Well that was…easy."

"When you spend a lot of time by yourself all you do is think and analyze everything you do. I _know_ this isn't healthy, at least now I do. Before, it didn't matter if it was healthy or not because I only had to worry about me, and it's still true – I only have to worry about me, but I realize now that _other_ people worry about me, too."

The rest of the car ride was spent in comfortable silence. I still didn't know Emmett well, but I surely knew why Rosalie picked him. He was intelligent, and despite his brawny demeanor, he was quite sensitive. I'll admit that I was nervous when he told me he was on his way – not knowing how he was going to react, but I was more than pleasantly surprised. He would never know how grateful I was for the fact that he didn't push me talk about what happened or my motives behind anything. Because no matter how much they made sense to me, I knew they wouldn't to anyone else.

"I'm just going to text Jasper and let him know that we're here," Emmett said when he parked inside the hospital lot. He pulled out his phone and sent a quick message. Because the lot was full, he had to park further away from the entrance, but the cold air helped to clear my mind and focus on what I was here for. Maybe this was one of the baby steps I had to take – acknowledging that, physically, I wasn't okay after what happened.

I heard the buzz of Emmett's phone vibrating. Pulling it from his pocket, he read the message and immediately stopped short.

"What happened?"

"Don't freak out, okay?"

"You can't tell me not to freak out, Emmett, because I'm going to freak out," I said, on the verge of a freak out.

"I know, but…maybe it's not that bad." I waved my hand to him to go on. "Jasper called Alice while she was still with Edward. They're both in his office waiting for you. So …uh…yeah." If I wasn't already scared, I could find the humor is Emmett's scared expression.

I was not ready for this. Sure, I knew I had to face them both sooner rather than later, but definitely not right now. Everything in me said to just fuck the whole situation and turn to leave, but I couldn't be the me that I hated - the one everyone hated.

"Do they know we're here, yet? Can you call Jasper?" I pleaded. He nodded and began dialing.

"Here, you talk to him." He handed me the phone right before Jasper answered.

"Hello?" Jasper greeted.

"Hey, Jasper, it's Bella," I practically whispered.

"Are you alright? What's going on?" he asked, clearly concerned.

"I'm fi…," I was about to answer with my automatic fine. "I'm not doing so good," I confessed instead. "Look, do Edward and Alice know I'm here?"

"No. They told me to call once you got in, but I haven't had the chance, yet. Why?"

"It's already overwhelming to know that they're in the same building. I just want to wait until the exam is over until they thrash me," I told him honestly. He chuckled over the line, causing me to smile slightly. The thing was, I was serious.

"I guess I can understand that, but you might be surprised. Sure, they're pissed, but they are worried just as much, if not more."

"You think?"

"No, I know," he assured me. "Look we'll talk more about it after we're done, alright?"

With a quick goodbye, I hung up and handed the phone back to Emmett. We continued on what felt like the walk of doom; meeting up with Jasper sooner than I would have liked. He ushered us into his office like we were criminals.

"So Emmett wasn't very detailed when he called," Jasper began. "What exactly is going on?" he asked, looking between the both of us.

"I need an exam…down there," I answered, pointing to my crotch.

"You know I'm not a gynecologist, right? I believe Dr. Welch, the OB/GYN, is on call tonight. She can do it for you."

"No, no, no, no," I rushed to dismiss that idea. "I need it to be you. _Just_ you."

Jasper crossed his arms over his chest and hardened his face. "Tell me, _now,_ what's going on. Stop avoiding the question."

I swallowed hard and looked to Emmett. In the short time we were together, it was like he had become my motivator – telling me I could so this, that I _had_ to do this.

"I was…um…raped earlier…" I didn't get to finish before Jasper shot up from his seat behind his desk.

"What?" he shrieked. "We have to call the fucking police." It was the first time I had ever heard him curse. "And do a rape kit." He was pacing and talking more to himself than me.

"Jasper, please no. I don't want a rape kit done and I definitely don't want the police called. All I want to do is make sure everything is alright…down there. Please!" I was shamelessly begging and I had no qualms about getting on my knees if that's what it took for him to obey my wishes.

"I could lose my license if I don't report this, Bella. I know you don't want to do this, and I know it probably doesn't seem like it but it's for your own good."

"I know, Jasper, but I don't want to deal with police and their questions or get into the fact that I've been homeless. I can't do all that." I could feel the sting in my eyes from holding back the tears and the crack in my voice from trying to keep myself composed.

Jasper groaned loudly and was clearly frustrated. "Fine. I rarely suggest this because I don't think it does anyone any good, but you can have an anonymous rape kit done. I still have to call the police, but they won't question you. They'll send the kit, wait around for it to be completed, and take it back with them. Later on, if you feel like you want to go through with filing charges, they'll have the kit already in evidence."

That was actually perfect.

"Okay," I agreed easily. Emmett patted my hand reassuringly.

"Thank you," Jasper said. I had no idea why he was thanking me, but I didn't say anything. "Now we have another matter. The kit can take a couple hours to complete and we still have the issue of Edward and Alice to deal with. It's your call, though, Bella. What do you want to do about them?"

I had actually forgotten about them. They already knew that we were on our way so it was only a matter of time before they started calling Emmett, if they hadn't already, or seeking out Jasper to find out if he knew anything. If they do go to Jasper and see that I was here and they weren't told it could just make matters worse. As much as it sucked, I had to put on my big girl panties and deal with them straight on and stop trying to delay the inevitable.

"It's another step, right?" I mumbled to Emmett.

"A huge step." He smiled at me confidently, more so than I felt at the moment.

"Alright. Can you tell them we're in your office?" Without answering, he picked up the phone on his desk and called either Edward or Alice.

My nerves were shot and I began pacing the room, trying to walk off some of the anxiety that I was feeling. Time was not on my side tonight because not ten minutes later, Jasper's door was ripped open. Staring back at me was a red-eyed Alice and an irate looking Edward. Before I could take a full breath, Alice lunged herself at me, squeezing me like a snake squeezes its lunch. Although I would have found this warm gesture awkward before, this time I embraced her like she was the air I needed. A whole new set of emotions came storming in. How could I have ever thought that this, her friendship, was something that I could compromise? How could I almost throw it away?

"I'm so sorry, Alice," I finally cried openly. It was gut wrenching and it made my body ache more than it already did, but I couldn't find it in me to care.

"I was so scared." She was crying, too. "I thought I did something to make you leave; thought you were mad at me for some reason."

"I'm sorry," I apologized again. "You could never do anything to make me leave. I did this by myself. I'm so fucking stupid." We held each other for another few minutes, not saying a word, but just crying. We finally broke apart after the tears stopped.

I looked over to Edward, who didn't look as mad, but still pretty pissed off. With tentative steps, I walked over to where he now stood by Jasper's bookcase. It took a few tries before I was finally able to say anything; his hard stare making it almost impossible to speak.

"Edward, I'm…" Before I could finish he wrapped me in another tight hug. My arms clutched around his body in a vice grip.

"I'm so fucking mad at you," he said, dipping his head down low to whisper in my ear. "Not only did you leave without saying anything, but you scared the shit out of me and made me lash out at Alice. Why the fuck didn't you call me if you were in trouble?"

"I'm sor…" he cut me off again when I tried to apologize.

"Don't. I'm not ready to hear it because I won't accept it," he told me while we were still wrapped up together. "I hate that you proved me right when I said I couldn't trust you."

Out of everything he could've said, that hurt the most because, frankly, the truth fucking hurts. But he was right and as long as he would let me I would do anything to gain his trust and prove that I'm not a constant fuck up – that I'm ready now to make the change that I needed to a long time ago.

A throat clearing finally caused us to break apart. I turned to look at Jasper who looked back sadly at me.

"Bella, do you want to talk to them before I call the police?" Jasper asked.

"The police?" Edward and Alice shouted at the same time.

"Bella," Emmett called my name, standing up from his chair. "I'm going to go home and wait for Rose, okay? I'm not ditching you, but I know you're in good hands now."

I walked over to him and hugged him for the first time. "Thank you so much for everything you did for me tonight." There was so much more I wanted to say to him, more that I wanted to thank him for, but my emotions were finally catching up with me and they were all over the place.

"That's what friends are for," he sang badly, making me smile. "Make sure you call Rosalie tomorrow," he instructed. With a kiss on the cheek and a goodbye to everyone else, Emmett left Jasper's office.

"Now can you please explain what the fuck is going on?" Edward demanded.

I wish Emmett hadn't left, but I guess he couldn't take facing the situation again. I understood, so taking that huge step, I explained _everything_. I told them about James, the money that I thought I was going to make, writing the note and waiting for Alice to use the bathroom, and finally what happened in the motel room. I even tried explaining my rationale over taking the job. However, I left out the part about getting Eric's name, instead telling them that neither he nor James gave me his name. I could tell right away that Edward and Jasper didn't believe that part, but they were kind enough not to point that out.

During my story Alice began crying again and Edward was visibly shaking while clenching and unclenching his fists. I was bracing myself for them to lash out at me, tell me that I deserved what I got for being so damn stupid, and informing me that I had to find someplace else to stay.

But it never came. Alice hugged me again, killing me every time she said sorry. Edward, on the other hand, kept his distance from me.

There was a knock on the door followed by a nurse entering the office.

"Dr. Whitlock, the police officers are here."

"Thanks, Betsy, I'll be right there." Jasper turned his attention back to me. "You ready?"

"Not really, but…" I trailed off, shrugging my shoulders. It was now or never and I highly doubted that anyone in this room would let me get away with never.

"Don't worry. I know it sounds like I'm asking for a lot, but it's not that bad and it _is_ the right thing to do," Jasper tried to reassure me. "Do you still want me to perform the kit?" I nodded. "Alright. Edward, can you take her to exam room four? There should be some gowns in one of the drawers. I'm just going to have a word with the officers."

Alice opted to stay in Jasper's office – the whole night still affecting her, on top of the cold she still had. Jasper went to the left as Edward guided me to the right. When we entered the designated room, Edward searched the drawers until he found a gown.

"I'll give you a minute while you change." Without another word, he turned and left me alone. I changed quickly, unsure of how much time I had until Jasper comes to do the exam. Just as I finished folding my last piece of clothing there was a knock on the door.

"Are you decent?" Edward asked. Was I ever?

"Yeah, you can come in if you want."

"Are you alright?" he asked as he came into the room. I shrugged indifference while I was freaking out on the inside. "It'll be uncomfortable, but not too bad.

The silence was uncomfortable and tense. There were so any things I wanted to say to him, starting with an apology, but he made it very clear that he wasn't going to listen to any of it.

Jasper came in a few moments later with the nurse from before.

"Bella, this is Betsy who'll be with us while I perform the exam. It's regulation that she be here, but you don't have anything to worry about, okay?" I nodded and gave the nurse a polite but tight smile.

"Edward, you can go wait with Alice in my office."

"No, I'm fine right where I am." His face was hard and he was in no way willing to budge.

"Edward, you know…"

"Jasper, it's okay. He can stay. It would be nice to have a hand to hold." I doubted that he would hold my hand through it all, but it was actually nice to have someone there for moral support, even if that support was only in my head.

"If you're sure," Jasper agreed.

Betsy helped me on to the exam table and adjusted the stirrups to the appropriate height and width apart. In the meantime, Edward had taken the seat that was somewhere behind me. Before beginning, Jasper tried to explain what was going to be done.

With the gown resting high on my thighs and my legs spread far apart, I had never felt more exposed in my life. Twenty minutes in, I could feel my breathing picking up and the room becoming a little blurry. Everything in me was saying to put an end to the exam and just forget about the whole thing. Yes, I was achy, but it wasn't anything that I couldn't handle. The pain would go away in a few days. I didn't _really_ need to do this.

While my lips and throat were abnormally dry, my palms and forehead were abnormally sweaty. I tried to even out my breathing as I felt myself being scraped and pinched. Without consciously thinking about it, my hands found their way into my hair, pulling it at its roots.

I can do this…

I can do this…

I can't do this…

My hand was firmly dragged out of my hair. I snapped my head in that direction to see Edward had pulled his chair over, now seated by my head instead of somewhere behind me. He held my hand in between the two of his, but would not look at me. I don't know what his focus was on, but it definitely wasn't me. Regardless of whether he wanted to acknowledge me or not, this one gesture, was enough for me.

I tried to stay still, maintaining the calmest composure possible. Concentrating on the way my hand felt in his helped slightly, but I was at least smart enough to not read anything into it.

About two hours later, the prodding down below stopped, but Jasper made no move to "clean up". He said something to the nurse that I couldn't hear, but she nodded and walked out the door.

"Bella, how long have you had this IUD?" Jasper asked, pointing to the anchor shaped piece of plastic.

"Uhh…four, almost five years, I think. I don't really remember."

"Alright. Well, I asked Betsy to bring me a replacement. However, because you haven't had the annual checkups, I want to do a pregnancy test. There is also the matter of testing for any possible STD's. When was the last time you got yourself checked out?"

"Just about a month ago; everything came back clean." I made sure to look Jasper in the eyes so he knew that I wasn't lying about this. I heard Edward exhale roughly beside me, still holding my hand.

"Good, good. Alright, well when Betsy gets here I'm going to insert the IUD and I'll send you to get your blood work done," he explained.

Betsy returned not five minutes later and another ten minutes later everyone was clearing the room so I could redress. Without wasting time, I was shown to the lab where vile after vile of blood was drawn. Edward stood in the room with me, but on the opposite side.

"The pregnancy test won't take that long, but everything else is going to need a little more time. Go home and rest. I'll text Edward the results of the pregnancy test later; I'm going to put a rush on these results," Jasper informed me.

"Thank you for all of this and I'm sorry for bringing my problems to you," I apologized.

He waved me off. "Don't ever feel sorry for asking for my help. I'm just glad you did come for help."

With a farewell hug goodbye I left the hospital, walking beside Edward. I didn't dare speak to him while we were still in the building, opting to wait until we were at his car.

"Am I going home with you?" I asked, dearly hoping that I was, but not holding my breath. All night he had been by my side, but still so distant and cold. I couldn't blame him.

"Yes. Please just get in the car. It's been a long fucking day, a longer night, and I just want it to end."

I didn't bother replying or thanking him for taking me in, _again_. I just got in the car and kept my mouth shut the whole way to his home. Like before, the quiet that surrounded us was full of deafening tension, but I didn't have the guts to say anything.

The drive and the elevator ride up to his apartment remained quiet and it was finally starting to get to me. I needed a reaction out of him. Like Emmett had predicted of me, I was waiting for him to explode, but it never came.

Finally when we had been in his apartment for half hour, both of us in comfortable sleeping clothes, I'd had enough. He was in the kitchen staring down a water bottle.

"Do you want to talk?" I asked cautiously as I stood in the entranceway.

"No. Like I told you before, I'm not ready and I'm likely to say something that is going to hurt one of us and I'm trying my fucking hardest not to let that happen," he said, his tone and temper rising at the very end. "Just go to sleep." He passed me, making sure not to make contact on the way. Seconds later, I followed him out of the kitchen to go to my room.

"Bella?" he called out before I entered the bedroom. I turned to look at his tired form. "For what it's worth, I'm glad you're here."

**AN: In the unlikelihood of this story being pulled, I will post it on AO3. You don't need an invite to read/review, just to post stories. Don't let the invitation aspect stop you from creating an account.**

**Lastly, I posted another o/s, That's What He Said, if you're interested.**


	16. Chapter 16

**AN: Thanks to SerineinNC for being the always wonderful beta. **

**All things Twilight belong to SM.**

Two days.

Two days since that fateful night and Edward had barely uttered more than a hundred words to me. I didn't know if he was scheduled to be off or took the two days off, but he was home. In that time he'd only spoken to tell me that all my tests came up negative or to ask me if I was hungry. I got the hint the first few hours on the first day. Every time I tried to engage him in conversation he would merely shrug or answer me in as few words as possible. I eventually gave up, only asking him when I wanted to use the phone or borrow a book. If he entered the room I would leave. I wasn't _avoiding_ him, but rather giving him the room to move freely in his own home.

"Can I use the phone?" I asked as he came out of his bedroom. "I need to talk to Rose."

"Mmhmm," he mumbled, walking past me and into the kitchen. I waited around another few seconds, like always, to see if maybe he would say something else; but always nothing.

I walked into the living room and grabbed the phone off of the charging dock.

"I'm gonna be in my bedroom," I informed Edward as I walked by him. He nodded and kept walking.

Although I had promised Emmett I would call Rosalie the next day, I just couldn't do it yet. Frankly, I still wasn't ready but it was beginning to feel like a huge weight on my shoulders. Every time I thought about calling her, I would chicken out before I even made it to the phone. But I was desperate to see her, and I knew it wouldn't be possible without talking.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Hey Rose. How's it going?" I tried to sound as happy as I could, completely faking it.

"Hi, babe. I'm alright, but this little girl is driving me up the wall. It's like she developed this whole new attitude over night."

I laughed at the image of little Isabel having the same diva attitude as her mother. I wanted to feel bad for Rosalie, but everyone could use a dose of their own medicine.

"Awesome," I responded sarcastically, but laughed anyway. "So anyway, I wanted to know if maybe you could leave Isabel with Emmett tomorrow so we could talk? I kind of need your full attention and I don't think it would be good to have Isabel there."

"Bella?" Rosalie had a warning tone to her voice. "What's going on? Is everything alright?"

"Not really," I said, opting for the truth. "But…I think it will be. I just have some things I need to get off my chest."

She was quiet for a minute before speaking again. "Emmett works tomorrow. Maybe I can ask Alice."

I didn't want her to ask Alice to watch Isabel because I'd be taking the chance of Alice letting something slip, or maybe even worse, telling Rose that she wanted to tag along. I couldn't face the both of them at the same time.

"Maybe Edward can watch her," I said, cringing. What the hell made me say that, I have no idea. "Maybe he can take her to lunch?" I'm such an idiot for even thinking about asking him.

"I guess that could work; do you mind asking?"

I didn't mind asking, but I didn't know if I'd get a response.

"Sure. Do you want to hold on a minute while I go or should I call you back?"

"I'll hold on."

I placed the phone down and steeled myself. The worst he could say was no; I hoped.

"Edward?" I called for his attention as he sat in the living room watching some vampire show. He directed his eyes to me then quickly back to the TV – his way of acknowledging me. "Do you think that maybe you could do me a favor?" He cocked his eyebrow at me in that you've-got-to-be-kidding -me kind of way, but I asked anyway. "Could you watch Isabel tomorrow, like take her to lunch or something so I can talk to Rosalie?" My palms began sweating the longer he looked at me.

"You want to talk to Rosalie?" he repeated my question, disbelief in his voice. I nodded. "Fine, but when you hang up you and I are talking," he said, waving his finger between us both. He looked angry and that didn't bode well for me.

"Um…sure. Let me just get off the phone with her and…yeah." Damn, I was nervous. I didn't see how talking could be a good thing with the way he was eyeing me.

I hung up with Rosalie quickly after, arranging for her to come over around eleven to give Isabel enough time to have lunch and be back in time to take her nap.

Edward was in the same position when I came back. He seemed engrossed in the show he was watching and I was hesitant to interrupt. I sat in the recliner, wringing my hands together, waiting for the verbal lashing I'd been waiting days for. I tried telling myself that this is what I wanted – some kind of reaction instead of being ignored. The rational part of me, though, knew that no one actually liked being yelled at and reminded of their dim-witted actions.

Suddenly, Edward clicked the TV off, but didn't immediately turn to me. I stared at the black screen while he gathered his thoughts. I could see his reflection staring back at me.

"Let me just start by saying that I'm going to try to keep myself tempered, but I'm not promising anything," he said.

"Okay," I whispered. He took a deep breath before going on.

"I've tried to put myself in your shoes to see what could have possibly made you do something so incredibly stupid, but I can't. I can't understand what it is that you thought you could find elsewhere that you couldn't find here – with me." His tone was very even, not indicative of any certain emotion. I tried reading him, though, but had great difficulty. My assumption was that he was very skilled in the art of hiding emotion, being a doctor and all.

"I dunno." I shrugged. Truly, now that I thought everything through, it didn't make sense, to say the least. "It was supposed to be a lot of money. I thought that this was what I needed to finally get me off of the streets…" He cut me off.

"Off of the streets?" he asked, his temper beginning to rise. "When was the last time you slept on a street corner or at the shelter? You _are_ off the streets," he said, his voice laced with anger and exasperation. I knew that this was probably the first of many good points he was going to make.

"I know," I agreed, "but I thought that maybe I could rent a small studio or something and get out of your hair. Who wants a charity case living with them?" I tried arguing, with no fight behind it.

"Did I ever give you a timeframe, a deadline to when I wanted you vacated?" He looked at me as if he wanted an answer, but didn't wait for me to reply. "And have you ever asked me for help with anything? I got you those clothes because I knew you needed them, but how else am I supposed to know what to do if you never ask? I know I'm not the easiest person to speak to, but recently I haven't given you any reason to think you couldn't come to me," he said and I finally found my only arguing point.

"You have," I pointed out. "The last few days before I did what I did, you were so stand-offish for no good reason. I don't even know what I said that pissed you off so badly." It was a weak argument, but right now it was the only one I had.

"Alright, fine," he said, rolling his eyes. "Yes, I guess you're kind of right. I was, as you say, stand-offish because I'm trying to sort out these emotions and thoughts. Do you think it's easy for me to hear about you selling your body? Because it's not."

Another good point.

"And you know what, Bella? You're not that different from me," he stated confidently. I quirked a confused eyebrow at him. "The first time we ever met – the coffee incident? You were all pissed off at me because I was making a big deal out of an expensive shirt. I bet you thought I was an asshole who was only concerned about money, and yet, here _you_ are only concerned about money."

"No," I lamely protested, though we both knew he was right.

"No? You clearly weren't concerned about Alice when you left and she discovered that you weren't home. Do you know how devastated she was when she saw you weren't in the room like she thought you were? Or how she called me crying hysterically when she found your note? I don't think you were concerned." He didn't sound angry or annoyed, but informative, as if he were stating facts during a presentation.

"You're right, I wasn't," I agreed, my throat tightening. He went on, most likely not aware of the defeat I was feeling.

"And let's say that everything did go the way you wanted and you got paid for…whatever," he growled the last word. "And you found a studio you liked. The landlord would want to see identification, do a credit check, and probably want a copy of your social security card. Could you provide any of that?"

"No."

Point number three.

How was it he made me feel impossibly smaller than I already did?

He scooted a little closer to me, but still kept a good amount of distance.

"Bella, I'm not trying to point out all of your mistakes, even though that's what it seems like. It's just so frustrating to see this behavior from someone like you. You're smarter than all of this."

I laughed sarcastically. "Apparently not."

"You are!" he defended. "If I didn't think that, I sure as hell would never have let you stay here or allowed you to come back after you did something I clearly asked you not to do," he said pointedly. "You're your own worst enemy and that's something you have to work through. We can all support you, but you can't make a change unless you want to."

"I do want to," I replied more confidently than I had throughout this mostly one-sided conversation. "I will!"

"And that's all I wanted to hear," he said, smilingly sadly. It seemed like this conversation was coming to a close, but we had left out a significant topic. Cautiously, I broached the subject.

"At the hospital, when you held my hand?" I inquired, thinking it was a good starting point. The crease in his brow and the darkening of his eyes told me that he knew what I was trying to bring up.

"I don't…do well with that kind of situation." He took another deep breath and stared at something over my shoulder. "I know kits are tough for both the doctor and the victim. I had to do one when I was in residency – on a lady that was four months pregnant. She cried the whole time while I tried to keep my own composure. She had to have felt my hands shaking. I had all these emotions fighting inside; mostly anger and a lot of 'why' questions. I think that's the reason why I choose surgery – you don't get too much background story. Get in, get out kind of thing." He finally looked me in my eyes. "Please try to understand that this is hard for me, too. I never came to terms with how I felt that day and it was like it all came rushing back to me at the hospital. Plus, mix that with the other anger I was feeling. I can't be the person to help you with this, but I'll be here if you need to talk about it."

I don't think I was really expecting him to explain anything to me. I wasn't really expecting anything at all. I just had to put it out there so I could walk away knowing that _I_ wasn't the one avoiding anything. I was serious when I told Emmett, and now Edward that I was ready to get my life together. If this were a different time, I would have happily left the conversation and not have brought up anything that he didn't, simply to not have to talk about it. Edward probably didn't realize it, but me sitting here, talking about, more like listening to, where I had gone wrong without providing reason after reason for my behavior was a big deal.

"So where does this leave you and I?" I finally asked. He studied me a moment, which felt like forever, before finally answering.

"That depends on you, really," he said, shrugging. "I'm still angry, and even kind of hurt, but this is your show. I offered you my home before, but…" He trailed off. "I'm not kicking you out, if that's what you think, but I don't trust you either. I need to know what your next moves are before I make any decisions."

Good question.

"I dunno… I mean, I _know_, but I don't know where to start. It seems simple, but still so overwhelming, ya know?" He nodded his head slowly, thinking over my words.

"Well it's not something that you have to answer right this second. Think about it and get back to me." He made to get up, effectively ending the conversation.

"Edward?" I called before he disappeared into his room. "Are we… okay?"

He shrugged. "Well, we're not best friends, but I don't hate you either, if that's what you're thinking. We just need to get to wherever it is we're supposed to be, and who knows where that is?" I nodded.

"I know that you don't want to hear it, but I am sorry," I said, finally apologizing.

"I know." With that he turned his back to me and entered his bedroom.

The next day came too quickly for my liking despite the fact that I didn't fall asleep until somewhere around two in the morning. I played back the conversation between Edward and me, surprised at how well it went. This was Edward, after all. The person who had no difficulty letting me know how he felt. A large part of me feared he was going to kick me out for breaking one of the conditions he set for me.

Now it was just a matter of showing him that I could be someone worth trusting; someone who was worth a second –and third – chance.

Rosalie was another issue that kept me up late. She had changed so much, in a good way, these past few years that I had no way of knowing how she would react. Sure, she would be upset, to say the least, but what then? How mad would she be? Or would she be sad and/or upset instead?

I woke up at seven – still tired but unable to go back to sleep. Edward was still asleep and I had no idea as to when he usually woke up. He would usually go into work either really early or late afternoon.

Entering the kitchen, I looked around for something to do. For the first time, doing dishes sounded appealing. However, Edward was quite the neat freak with a dish washer. I looked in the refrigerator for something quick to eat and easy to make; something that I couldn't mess up.

Eggs. He had eggs. I could actually cook scrambled eggs. I also saw some bacon, but every time I tried cooking bacon I either burnt it - making it way too crispy, or undercooked it – making it really rubbery. Bacon was out. Eggs and toast it was.

I stood staring at the eggs and butter on the counter, not sure if I should just make enough for me or make some for Edward, also. And if I made eggs for him, how many eggs did he usually eat?

"You can stare at them all you want, but I'm pretty sure you'll win that contest," Edward said, standing by the entrance. I jumped and clutched at my rapidly beating heart.

"You scared the shit out of me!" I exclaimed. As I glared, I was able to take a look at him. I don't think I had ever seen him right after he had woken up. Oddly enough, he looked exactly the same as he did throughout the day, except maybe he still had sleep in his eyes. He stood before me with his perfectly chaotic hair and wearing a red wife beater and black sweats. He looked really…good. But anyone with decent vision would notice that.

"I was going to make breakfast – eggs - do you want?" I asked, trying to dispel the awkwardness that I'm pretty sure was one-sided.

"What kind?"

"Well I can only make scrambled or hard boiled."

"Can you make omelets?"

"Not if you want to eat it." I shrugged. "I can separate the egg whites, though."

"Um…okay." He looked and sounded confused.

"Well, you're a doctor and don't doctors only eat egg whites – all that healthy stuff?" He laughed loudly. "What?" I asked when he finally shut up.

"Nothing," he said, waving it away. "I'll take scrambled eggs – four."

I grabbed six eggs and began cracking them. After all six yolks were in a bowl, with a fork I began picking out the white, phlegmy looking part of the egg. It's an annoying task, and probably completely unnecessary, but a habit that I could never break.

"What are you doing?" Edward asked as I plopped the last of the white phlegm into the sink.

"I have no idea," I confessed. "Every time my mom made eggs she always took those white things out. She said they were bad for you, but who knows. Anyway, I got into the habit, too," I explained.

Before I began actually scrambling the eggs, I turned the burner on under the skillet. Edward was just sitting there, watching me, making me completely uncomfortable.

"So what are your plans pre- and post- Isabel?" I asked, needing the distraction of conversation to dull the awkwardness I was feeling under his gaze.

"I have some paperwork I need to finish this morning and then I'll probably head over to the gym when she goes home with Rose."

I focused all my attention on the eggs in the hot pan at that point. Scrambled eggs were easy enough in theory, but it only took seconds for them to go wrong. If you took them out too early, they ran, if you took them out too late, they felt like rubber. I was so engrossed in my scrambling skills that I hadn't even noticed that Edward made toast. I plated most of the eggs on one plate and the rest on another.

"So I was thinking," I began after Edward started eating. "Do you think that I could go with you to the gym? I use to work out to de-stress myself when I was in school. Maybe it'll help now", I explained nervously while playing with the eggs on my plate. Most likely he was going to say no, but I figured I should just ask anyway. Baby steps and all that.

He never looked up from his plate while I talked, and never stopped eating, but I noticed that he slowed his chewing. After another two forkfuls of eggs and a bite of his toast, he finally answered.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," he answered predictably. I wasn't surprised, but it still sucked to hear him say no. I thought that was the end of it since he didn't owe me an explanation, but he went on. "The thing is is that you're really skinny and losing any more weight, or even over exerting your body isn't very healthy. In fact, as a doctor, I recommend gaining some more weight. I would say at least ten pounds, but twenty might be better. I know that's not something females want to hear," he said, shrugging.

"Yeah, you're right," I agreed quickly, yet sadly. I needed something to do with myself all day or at least a part of it. I never enjoyed not doing anything; I got bored very quickly.

"What about yoga?" he asked, suddenly. I had taken the last bite of my toast and was ready to clear my area. "Maybe that'll help relax you. You could learn how to meditate. I know they offer classes at the gym a few times a week. I could look into it if you want me to."

"I've never done yoga before," I told him timidly. Honestly, I found yoga to be a little intimidating. They bent and stretched in ways that I never could. Plus, I was never any good at holding still for long periods of time. I was an artist's worst nightmare, which is why I never modeled in school.

Baby step, I thought to myself.

"I guess I could try it," I finally answered.

"Alright," he said, nodding. "I'll look into later."

I spent the rest of the morning trying to find something to clean in Edward's meticulously tidy condo. I wasn't a necessarily neat person in life, but I needed to do something to not only pass the time, but keep myself from freaking out about coming clean to Rosalie. I even tried going back to sleep for a while, but my mind wouldn't stay quiet long enough for that to happen.

At ten to twelve there was a knock on Edward's door. Not really needing to, but doing it anyway, I looked through the peephole to see Rosalie looking down at Isabel. Actually, it looked more like a glare. Funny enough, Isabel looked like she was glaring back. I opened the door before they could really go at it with each other. I had to hide my smile when they both came in looking pissed.

"Hey," I greeted Rose, giving her a quick hug. She hugged me back – a little too tightly.

"Hey, sweetie," I said to Isabel, crouching down to her level. She had a serious expression on her face. "What's wrong?"

"Kick Mommy's butt," she demanded, pointing at Rosalie. I looked up to Rosalie shocked, but overly amused.

"No, I'm gonna kick your butt," she countered.

"Woah, ladies. What's going on?" I laughed. The sight of a grown woman arguing with a toddler was too funny. However, Rose's scowl told me that she didn't find it funny at all.

"I told her not to jump in that puddle. Do you think she listened? No. Now the bottom of my pants are wet and I hate that feeling," she explained, but continued to look at Isabel while she did.

"It 'lipsery," Isabel told me. I looked up at Rose, hoping she could translate.

She rolled her eyes. "She's trying to tell you that it's slippery outside. That's what she told me before jumping into the puddle." My knees and back were beginning to hurt so I finally stood up. "I swear, she hangs out with Emmett too much. I blame him for this, especially the kick butt part. Do you know how many times she asks Emmett to kick my butt and vice versa? One day she's going to ask the wrong person and I'll be asking you to bail me out of jail."

I laughed. One of those bend-over-and-hold-your-stomach laughs. Rosalie didn't find this funny, but someone looking from the outside would.

"What's so funny?" Edward asked, coming out from his room. "Oh, hey kid," he greeted a running Isabel.

"Mom-mom bad girl," she informed Edward in what was probably supposed to be her sternest voice.

"What did she do?" he asked, faking anger.

"Mom-mom said…" She began talking really fast and it all sounded like gibberish to me. Either Edward knew what she meant or he was humoring her, nodding at all the right places, gasping in sympathy, and casting glares at Rose.

"I'll help you kick Mommy's butt when we come back, but first let's get some nuggets, okay?" Edward said after Isabel listed all the ways Rosalie was a bad girl.

"Nuggets, yes," she answered seriously. "Come on." She waved her hand five seconds later when she thought Edward was taking too long.

Apparently, Isabel was no longer mad at Rosalie since she hugged and kissed her goodbye while promising to be good and eat all her food.

"You two are cute together," I commented after the door was finally shut. "She's funny – acts really grown up."

Rosalie groaned. "You have no idea. It's not fun arguing with a two year old about whose turn it is to use the computer." I listened with rapt attention as Rosalie ranted about the joys, and not so joyous, benefits of having a toddler that was too smart for her own good. As she began talking with her hands, her voice rose slightly, and her eyes widened and it was clear that this was more than her just regaling her experiences with Isabel. This was more like a therapy session, which was quite fitting. I felt bad about telling her about my not so long ago past; putting more on top of her already overflowing plate.

"Anyway, what's going on?" she asked after she finished telling me how Emmett was _too_ much an influence on Isabel.

"Uh," I hesitated, having no clue where to start. "How about a drink first? I think Edward has something around here," I offered, stalling. She narrowed her eyes at me.

"Is it that bad?" she asked, suspiciously. I nodded instead of actually speaking. She got up and headed to a small wet bar that I had never even noticed before. The times I saw Edward with a drink he already had it in hand so I never saw where he got it from.

"What'll you have?" she asked, as she poured a golden liquid into a highball. I waved my hand, declining the offer. "You _still_ don't drink?" she asked dubiously, arching an eyebrow only for a quick second. "Shit, Bella, I didn't mean for it to come out that way. I just remember you didn't drink much in college, only on those rare occasions.

"I know what you meant, Rose. It's fine," I assured her. She smiled apologetically and raised her glass.

"It's five o'clock somewhere." With that, she downed the entire drink with one gulp. I felt _my_ throat burn.

Rosalie sat down next to me, instead of across from me, and I wasn't sure if that was such a good idea. However, I was selfish enough to want the close contact since I didn't know what was going to happen after everything was said. I just stared at her, working up the courage to tell her the person she thought she knew was not the person she was sharing air with.

"That night that you were driving home from Portland I called but you weren't home, so I spoke with Emmett," I started. Her head snapped back in surprise, obviously, not knowing anything about that night. "He picked me up from a motel." Surprisingly, I was able to begin with an even, unaffected voice and demeanor. However, I didn't know how long that was going to last. Rosalie was gaping, looking at me like I had two heads.

"I got myself into…trouble, I guess you can say."

"Drugs?" she asked, although I knew she was hoping she was wrong. But maybe drugs would have been easier to talk about than this.

"No, not drugs." I shook my head. "I was approached by someone who had a business proposition for me. Only, to put it mildly, it didn't work out too well for me."

"I don't want you to put it fucking mildly," Rose sneered, her eyes already shining with anger. There may have been something else there, but it was over-powered by fury. "What happened that _my_ husband had to come rescue you?" Her words cut, but it wasn't a surprising stab.

"I was raped by the man that was supposed to pay me for sex," I told her bluntly.

"I can't," Rosalie said, standing up abruptly. "I can't do this right now." She stormed out of Edward's apartment, slamming the door in the process.

I sat staring at the door that Rose all but ran out of, hoping that this wasn't another death, the death of a friendship, that I had to cope with. I expected this reaction, kind of. I had hoped that she would at least hear me out first, before she finally decided I wasn't worth the trouble anymore.

I was kidding myself this whole time – thinking that I would be able to deal if Rosalie didn't want anything to do with me anymore. Yes, I had abandoned her before, but I only did it to protect myself from the insanity that was beginning to envelop me. This time around, I was more in control of myself, and a world where Rosalie hated me wasn't appealing.

**AN: Don't be mad at Rosalie. It's tough finding that out, no?**


	17. Chapter 17

**AN: Thanks for all the reviews/alerts/favorites. I gained a lot of new readers and I want to say thanks and welcome.**

**As always, beta'd by the wonderful SereneinNC. All things Twilight belong to SM.**

I holed up in my room after staring at the front door for what felt like ages. After lying on the bed for a while, I felt my eyes begin to droop. While fighting consciousness, I heard doors open and close multiple times through an uncertain span of time. My own door may have even opened a few times.

My sleep was dreamless – the way I preferred it – and served to only pass time. When the bed finally became uncomfortable from restlessness, I wandered out of the room, hoping to find something to do. Edward was nowhere to be found, but Alice was sitting on the floor, hunched over the coffee table, sketches littering her immediate area.

"Hi, Alice," I greeted her timidly. We hadn't seen each other since the hospital and I wasn't sure where I stood with her.

She looked up at me from her drawing and flashed me a bright smile.

"Hey, Bella." She patted the sofa behind her. "Come sit. I could use your opinion on these sketches."

She didn't seem mad and after what happened with Rose, I didn't want to rock the boat just yet.

"I don't know much about fashion," I warned. "Rosalie used to say that all I knew was bohemian chic, and she even had to explain what she meant by _that_."

She looked me up and down. "Yeah, I could see that about you. Stereotypical artsy look."

"Was that a compliment or a dig?" I asked, slightly offended.

"It wasn't a dig, Bella," she said in a 'duh' tone. "You just merely give off an artsy vibe and I can see how it would have reflected in your clothing style."

"Oh, well, thanks I guess," I replied, still a little confused. "What did you need help with anyway?" I asked as I sat on the couch. I looked over her shoulder at the different designs scattered about. They all seemed too sophisticated for my taste, but very nice, none the less. However, my eyes were trained more on the penciled lines and curves than the patterns and stitches that made up the design. They were good…for an amateur.

"You're in your artsy mode now; I can tell," she teased. "But that's what I need help with anyway. Would you mind redrawing some of these for me – about three or four? I'm starting my rough portfolio and there are certain designs I think would look better on paper if they were sharper, maybe?" She shrugged.

"I'm not doing anything so we can start now if you want," I offered.

"Thank you so much," she squealed, hugging me tightly. She handed me four sketches that had pretty bad eraser marks on them from the constant rubbing. The sheets were dog-eared and slightly wrinkled. My assumption was that these designs were obviously her favorite and constantly referenced.

Grabbing Alice's sketch pad off the floor, I looked around for a pencil. The only thing she had was a standard number two pencil. It wasn't my favorite to use, but I doubted she had a HB pencil lying around. I moved to the kitchen to give myself room and a sturdy work place.

The first sketch wasn't particularly detailed with intricate designs, but rather straight, asymmetrical lines as the focus point of the one shoulder dress. After studying the original sketch for a few minutes, I was able to reproduce it fairly quickly. The rest, however, were more detailed and slightly harder to perfect to my own liking. I'm sure Alice would have been happy, but my trained eye saw every minute imperfection in the lines that I drew. Some circles were not rounded enough, and some stitches were not spaced evenly enough.

I was finally satisfied about two hours after I began. I returned to the living room to see Alice flipping through a Vogue magazine. The designs that were strewn about were now in neat piles on the table.

"I'm done; take a look. If you're not happy with them I can try again." I handed her the sketches and flopped down behind her. I rested my head on the back of the couch and closed my eyes while she inspected the work.

"Bella, these are…freaking amazing. Even the waves in the dress," she said, in awe. A sly grin formed across my face. I should have told Alice I don't do anything half-assed when it comes to anything I would take credit for.. She could have asked me to draw a triangle and it still would have been the best triangle she ever saw. I was good and I knew I was good. I felt my confidence, more like ego, boosting and it was making me feel bold.

"Do you have a laptop with you?" I asked her.

"Yeah, sure. Hold on a sec." She took another second before putting the designs down and fetching me the laptop. She booted it up before handing it to me. I clicked on the Google icon, wrote my name in the search bar, and then clicked on 'images'. All too familiar paintings popped up. I could recall the time spent painting each one. I clicked a link that had a collection of my works that were for sale and how much they sold for.

"Here, take a look at this." I handed her back her computer.

She seemed to be analyzing each painting meticulously. Her eyes squinted and more than a few times she touched the screen.

"These are all yours?" she asked, without taking her eyes off the screen.

"Yeah, but only the ones that sold. There are private ones that aren't on the internet."

"Bella, this painting sold for almost seventy grand," she practically shouted. I knew which one she was talking about since only one of my paintings sold for that much.

"Yeah, but I only took half of it. That painting was selected to be in an auction that was only featuring under-appreciated artists. Each artist, however, had to agree to donate no less than ten percent of what their work sold for to a charity of their choice. I decided to give a quarter of it to the ASPCA and another quarter to a local animal shelter. What I kept went toward tuition and supplies."

"Wow." She continued to scroll down the page, examining my artwork. "Did you sell all your work through auctions?"

"No, only a few, actually. A lot were sold through private sales. People would call saying they heard of my stuff through someone else, so basically word of mouth."

"Do you think you'd ever start painting again?"

"I'd like to someday, but I doubt it would be the bread and butter that it used to."

Alice stopped scrolling and turned to look at me.

"Weren't you the one who told me to do what I love? Take your own advice. Just because you think you won't make money from them anymore, doesn't mean that you shouldn't pick it up again."

"It's not that simple, you know. When I painted that stuff, I wasn't fighting for survival like I am now."

Alice narrowed her eyes in aggravation. "You're not fighting for your life now, either. It's about time you realize that. Besides, you make it sound like you've been pitted in an arena or something."

"Edward kinda said the same thing yesterday," I admitted.

"He's a smart guy." She shrugged and clicked on another page of my work. An awkward silence enveloped us as she continued to look at my paintings without commenting.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked her after staring at her for a minute.

"Mmhmm." She didn't take her eyes off the screen.

"Aren't you mad at me for what I did? I'd understand if you were, so if you are, don't pretend you're not to spare my feelings."

"Um." She stopped and thought for a moment, closing the lid on the computer. "I was mad at your sneakiness; how you just disappeared. Edward reamed me for letting you just leave, so I was pissed at you because of that. But the other thing? Not so much." She got up off the floor and sat next to me on the sofa.

"I'm not going to lie and say that I understand why you did it, because you can explain it to me a hundred times and I'd still never really get it. More than anything, though, I pity you. I pity you because you're so lost that you don't even realize that you've been found. You're not alone in this world anymore, and until you fully grasp that concept, you'll never be whole; you'll never be alright. I know you've been living and taking care of yourself for a long time, but it doesn't have to be like that."

I didn't know how to respond to that, so I didn't - she wasn't offended. I was thankful, though slightly overwhelmed. In my former life, I hated pity, as it never got you anywhere on your own merits. I had come across a few classmates that had their work regarded or featured on something or other because their mentor, or whoever, took pity on them. I, however, earned everything that was granted to me. But now? I'd take pity over anger or disgust. I had enough of my own.

I grabbed the remote and began channel surfing while Alice went back to her magazine. I stopped when I saw that The People's Court was on, one of my absolutely favorite shows.

"Ugh, you're so like Rosalie. All she watches are court shows," Alice commented, causing me to snicker.

"No, you mean Rose is like me. I got her addicted after I refused to watch anything else when she was around." It was a bittersweet memory of something that seemed so stupid and unimportant at the time.

A commercial advertising a diet pill came on and I remembered what Edward said to me earlier today.

"Hey Alice, do you think I need to put on some weight?" I asked.

"Truthfully?" She looked unsure, but the truth was what I needed and I told her so. "I think a few extra pounds wouldn't hurt." I could tell she was trying to be polite, but I knew myself that 'a few pounds' wouldn't be enough.

"What about twenty pounds?" She looked at me curiously.

"Who told you twenty? Edward?" she inquired with a raised brow. I went with an innocent shrug causing Alice to snort. "Yeah, it was Edward. He has this thing against skin-and-bones type of girls. He even broke up with an old girlfriend because he was convinced she was anorexic," she chuckled.

I didn't know what to make of what Alice said about Edward. Did he tell me that because it was his personal preference, like he preferred _me _like that, or because I looked that bad? Though the thought of someone like Edward liking someone like me was a long shot, I couldn't help but hope it was the former instead of the latter. Aside from all that, though, did I seriously look that unhealthy that he would think I needed to gain so much weight?

"Do I look bad, though? Like sick?"

"If you would have asked me that when I first met you I would have said yes, but now not so much. There's color in your cheeks and they look fuller. You have gained some weight, which is good, too."

"I _do_ feel better," I mused.

"You should." She smiled. "Stick with us, kid, and you'll go far." She playfully and dramatically punched me on the chin.

"You're so corny," I laughed. "So where's Edward? At the gym?"

"Yeah, but oh," she squealed suddenly. "The framer called and told him the painting was ready so he's doing that, too."

"Oh, yeah? That was quick. I'm glad he'll have it ready for Christmas." I couldn't help but wonder how much he paid to have it framed. I knew from experience that framing art, no matter how big or small, cost a pretty penny.

We continued as we were, Alice with her magazine and me flipping through channels until Edward arrived. In his hands was the painting wrapped in the familiar brown paper.

"Is that it?" Alice asked, jumping up from her position on the sofa. "Can I see it?"

"Yes it is, and no you can't," he answered. "Just trust me when I say that it's exquisite." He winked at me, like I was in on some secret that Alice wasn't. "I'm going to put this in my room and I'll be right back."

After he returned from his room, the three of us just spent some time hanging out in the living room watching TV. Well, I mostly watched while they talked about another holiday get together at his parents' house again. I hadn't been invited, but I wasn't going to assume that I was going to be dragged along like last time, either. Things were different this time around. For one thing, Edward and I were on friendlier terms, I think, back then. There was also the issue with Rosalie. She _is_ family to them and she wasn't speaking to me right now, or at least that's what I was assuming. I could go on and on about the reasons why I wouldn't be invited or why I shouldn't go. Still, it would be nice to spend Christmas with a family, even if they weren't mine.

Alice left about two hours later, finally. It wasn't that I didn't want her around, she was great company, but I needed to talk to Edward, alone, about Rose.

"I'm assuming you know about what happened with Rosalie?" I asked him outright. I didn't have time to hint to him that I wanted information.

"Yeah, she was pretty upset, to say the least. But the good news is, is that she's pissed off at Emmett and me, too, for knowing and not saying anything to her."

That made me feel a little bit better.

"She just rushed out of here without letting me explain. I mean, we've had fights before, but she never just walked away without letting me explain myself." I was starting to feel sorry for myself and I hated it.

"It would be a fair statement to say that you've changed over these past years, correct?" he asked, suddenly. I refrained from saying 'duh', nodding instead. "Then is it so hard to believe that she has, too?"

"No," I answered like an admonished child.

"When I first met Rose, I thought she was a total bitch, but everyone could tell that she loved my brother so I put up with it, and stayed back when I could. Isabel is what really brought us together. Anyway, while I barely tolerated her, Emmett would call just to vent about Rosalie. I'm sorry to say this, but from the way he described her behavior behind closed doors made her seem like a basket case. She utterly refused to watch Beauty and the Beast because the name of the character was Bell, she cried at the drop of a hat, she talked about hating herself, she rejected my brother's proposal time and time again, and that's just some of the saner things he told me about. She's come a long way from being that person. I think it's safe to say that she wrapped herself in a bubble when she found you and you just burst it."

Without fail, every time I thought I couldn't feel worse about what I did, there was always something new to knock me down a few pegs. Had I really been the cause of that? The way I fucked up left and right made it quite easy to believe. Fuck, I wanted to cry.

I rubbed my face in frustration and shame. "What do you think I should do?"

"Well, you know her better than I do, but I would suggest that you just give her time to come to you when she's ready. If enough time has passed and nothing gets resolved then maybe you can try talking to her again."

"'Yeah." I nodded, contemplating his advice. "You're right. Thanks." I offered him a small smile and headed back to my room.

I began reading one of the books that I had grabbed from Edward's shelf yesterday. However, after reading the same page twice, I set it down and rolled over.

These baby steps were hard and didn't seem beneficial at all. If I hadn't told Rosalie than we would have been great right now. She wouldn't be mad or hurting or feeling guilty, and there would be one less thing I hated myself for.

Then there was the fact that I had no idea what I was going to do with myself now. I couldn't, not that I wanted to, continue to stay here doing absolutely nothing. For one thing, I'd go stir crazy if I didn't have anything productive to do besides reading and watching TV. I also didn't want to stay here without contributing anything. Granted, Edward was well off and didn't need help with managing his household, but still. I think it would help to rebuild my self-worth.

That would be my next step – getting a job. The problem, though, was finding something I was qualified for.

"Remember when you asked me what my next step is?" I asked Edward the next morning. He was fluttering around the apartment getting ready for work. Because he wasn't fully dressed, he stopped to knot his tie and listen at the same time.

"Yeah." He looked at me expectantly while centering the knot with perfect precision.

"I think I should get a job. I could help with the bills around here and save money for anything I need. _The right way. _I think it would be good for me."

He looked at me critically before answering. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't it be?" I asked curiously.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but you don't think you would fall back into bad habits?"

Now I understood. I wasn't offended, or even surprised.

"I see what you're saying and I get it, but to answer your question, no, I don't think I'd do _that_ again. I know you probably find it hard to believe me and I understand that, too. I guess it's just going be a matter of time before you trust me, or believe me, and that's fine." I couldn't begrudge him for being a cautious man. Hell, he was just being smart.

"Alright, how about a test then? It's actually a big test as far as I'm concerned." He stopped what he was doing and pursed his lips, most likely working the mechanics over in his head.

"Okay," I eagerly agreed. I was ready to prove myself to him and everyone else, too.

"I have a twelve hour shift today and Alice is on her way over. I'll call her and tell her not to come. If you can stay here, by yourself, without taking off or doing anything stupid, I'll help you find a job."

"Okay!" I tried to contain my excitement so I didn't sound crazy, like Alice when she was excited.

"Don't agree so readily; I wasn't finished." I sobered quickly. "If you fail, however, you're out. You won't be welcomed here any longer. You'll have used up all the chances that I had to give you."

"Fine, you got a deal!" I was still excited on the inside, but I didn't want Edward to know. I didn't want to seem smug, or have him believe that I was just setting myself up for failure with my cockiness.

"Good," he said, smiling. "Now to make things more interesting or challenging if you will, here." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his set of keys and placed them on the coffee table. "There are my keys. You can come and go." It was his turn to be smug, and he wasn't afraid to show it. "I'll call Alice and tell her not to come."

"If I'm alone, though, how will you know that I didn't just go out and come back?"

"I won't unless you tell me, but _you're_ the one that needs to work on trust. If you really want people to trust you, then you won't do anything stupid. Plus, if you're able to pass this test, then I'll really believe that you're serious about wanting to get your shit together. It's up to you."

He pulled out his cell phone while he walked back to his bedroom. I stuck my tongue out at him when his door was securely closed. I could do this and I could do it with flying colors. I _was_ ready for a change this time. This 'test' was nothing. Sure, I'd get bored without much to do around here and no one to talk to, but it was still an easy feat.

He left forty minutes later, leaving me by myself. Alice called an hour later to "check up" on me. I didn't know if that was her doing or if Edward put her up to it, but I was actually grateful as I was already getting bored. We talked for almost two hours. I told her about Edward's test, which she seemed to know nothing about since he never told her why she didn't have to come over today.

After getting off the phone with Alice, I contemplated calling Rosalie, but remembered what Edward said. I may have known her longer, but he was right. Rosalie was someone who needed to let things stew for a bit – that hadn't really changed. What did change, though, was being on this end of her anger, if that's what I could even call it. She never shied away from yelling and screaming at me, but never had she just walked away. I preferred the yelling.

I grabbed the remote control and flipped through the channels for some decent afternoon shows. To my horror, shows like Jerry Springer and Maury were still on the air.

Another two hours later I swore I was losing my mind from boredom. I realized that I took for granted all the time Alice had spent with me. Maybe Edward's intention was never to have her babysit me, but rather keep me company. Either way, I was more than willing to have her here the next time he went to work.

When Edward's phone began to ring I wasn't sure if I should answer it or not. Whether it was business or personal, if it was important I'm sure that whoever was calling had Edward's cell number. Finally giving in to curiosity, I looked at the caller ID like it was actually going to help me since I didn't know anyone's number by heart. I bit the bullet and answered.

"Hello?" I asked the caller.

"I guess you're still there," Edward said in greeting.

"That I am," I said proudly. "Bored out of my mind, but still here."

"Why don't you call Alice to come over?" I could almost hear his smirk over the phone.

"Hell no! I'm getting through this day by myself."

He chuckled on the other end.

"Well, if it helps, I have a laptop for personal use in my room. You're welcome to use it if you want."

"Is that supposed to be like another test? To see if I'll steal something?" I challenged.

"No, Bella," he said with all trace of humor gone. "I'm just trying to help. Believe it or not, I'm not trying to set you up for failure." He sounded very sincere.

"Oh," I responded, feeling extremely ashamed. "Thanks then. That would help a lot. Where is it exactly so I know where to look?" After telling me it was right on top of his bed, he had to go since his next surgery was scheduled in a few minutes.

I stood at his bedroom door, scared to actually go in. I felt like I was invading his privacy, despite having been given permission to enter. After gaining the necessary courage, I opened his door and made a beeline for the laptop that I saw straightaway. The only thing that I could tell about his bedroom was that it seemed spacious and he had a black and red bed set.

I wasted hours of my life on YouTube. I watched everything from old and new music videos, to prank videos, to videos of soldier homecomings. I had forgotten how absolutely addicting the site was. I only stopped to eat, use the bathroom, and watch some court shows that I liked.

I had fallen asleep some time later only to be woken by the sound of Edward coming in the apartment.

"Hey," I greeted, my voice groggy.

"Why are you sleeping on the couch?" he asked curiously.

"Because the internet is still evil. Have you seen that maze where that scary lady pops up at the end? I almost pissed my pants!" That thing was no joke.

I could see Edward was trying to hide a smirk, but failing horribly.

"I know which one you're talking about." He stopped and laughed. "Emmett is extremely competitive so it was easy to get him to try it out. You should have seen his face; I don't think I've ever laughed so hard."

"Ah, man. I wish I could've been there," I laughed.

"So…um, how'd your day go? Anything you have to tell me?" he asked, switching gears quickly.

"Okay, I guess. Bored most of the time. I think I like having a babysitter," I joked. However, Edward didn't find it so funny.

"It's getting late; you should probably get some sleep. I'll be on call tomorrow night so I'll have my day free. If you want we can talk about getting you a job."

Sleep was hard to come by. Not only did that small nap hinder my sleep, but I was actually itching to get back on the internet again. I was tempted to ask Edward if I could take his computer in the room with me, but figured that was asking a lot. It was his personal computer, after all. When I did eventually fall asleep, I dreamt of talking oranges and disgusting meals overloaded with bacon.

Edward was already awake when I left my bedroom. After using the bathroom, I grabbed a bowl of cereal. As I was sitting down at the kitchen aisle, I realized how comfortable I had become staying here, probably more than I should. But even still, I liked this feeling.

When I was done, I found Edward talking on the phone with his feet reclined on the coffee table. I had never seen him so relaxed. It was nice. I waited until he hung up before entering the room.

"Morning," I greeted, although it was almost eleven.

"Oh hey, I was just talking about you. I just got off the phone with my mom and she wanted to know if you were coming over on Christmas. I told her you would, but if you don't want to…" he trailed off. I wasn't expecting to be invited, let alone having Edward accept on my behalf. It was a good sign, though.

"I would, but what if Rose and I don't make up by then don't you think it would be awkward? And besides that, I don't want to go there empty handed," I argued. It sounded like I was trying to get out of it, but the truth was that it would be nice to be there. Christmas was my favorite holiday and it had been hard these last few years without my parents around.

"I'm sure things will be fine between the two of you, and don't worry about bringing gifts or anything. No one expects you to." Because you're poor, I finished for him in my head.

"If I'm going then I'm bringing gifts. I'll figure something out," I said with finality. He shook his head but didn't argue further.

"So, do you want to talk about finding a job?" he asked, thankfully changing the subject.

"Sure. What do you think about looking on Craigslist? Do people still use that?" I remember using that site a lot when I was looking to rent studio space temporarily when I wanted to work off campus.

"Yes, but I'd rather see what I can find personally before we turn to strangers. Is that okay?" I nodded my agreement. It would probably be beneficial if I got a job through Edward, as he would be a reference right off the bat. "So what can you do, aside from painting? Do you have any other skills?"

"Um, I used to babysit when I was younger. I worked retail for a bit, like cashiering. I did some filing and answering phones when I was a student worker." I tried thinking of any other skills I had, but sadly there weren't many.

"I can bake, too." I shrugged. I never realized how unqualified I was for the real world. It was really disheartening.

"You can bake?" Edward asked, sounding way more excited than he should.

"Yeah. I baked a lot when I lived at home and a little when I was in school. Oh," I suddenly remembered something. "During my sophomore year, two of my friends had a really small wedding, like only a few thousand spent, and asked me to make them a wedding cake. It was three tiered cake that I had Rosalie help me with…the last one she ever helped me with," I laughed. She was the worst assistant ever. She confused fractions, dropped eggs, and sneezed in the first batter.

"That's great, actually. Mrs. Cope, one of the nurses, said that her daughter was looking for help at her bakery. I don't really know what you'd be doing, but I'm sure you'd be fine." He paused for a second, suddenly looking unsure.

"What?" I questioned anxiously. It was stupid, but I had already gotten my hopes up about the possibility of working at a bakery.

"Remember what I told you about the information you'd need if you wanted to rent an apartment?" he asked. It only took a second to see where he was going with this. "You'd need the same for a job and I doubt you've been carrying around your social security card."

"No," I whispered, already defeated. I had a strong feeling of where I could find it, though.

"Don't feel so down, yet. It'll take awhile, but we can get those things back," he tried to assure me. I appreciated the sentiment, but I knew it would be _a lot_ harder than he realized. It wasn't a matter of just going to the Social Security office or strolling into the DMV for a new license. It was worse.

If I wanted to get back to the person I once was; the person that everyone could eventually become proud of, I had to forgo the baby step and take a huge leap.

"The house in Forks – everything I'll need is there. I have to go back to Forks."

**AN: Thanks for reading and a happy 4th of July for my fellow American readers.**


	18. Outtake from F4NKH

**AN: A big thanks to KittyVuitton, Cara No, and Cejsmom for pre-reading this for me and giving me their thoughts. A HUGE thank you to SereinNC for not only beta'ing this, but the story in general. She's been a bigger help than she realizes.**

**This is the outtake that was donated to F4NKH, so some of you may have already read it. The next regular chapter, 19, should be ready soon. I'm going to let this chapter linger, giving people enough time to read it, and then post the 19. It shouldn't be more than a week, hopefully less than that.**

**Outtake Summary: Find out what happened to Bella that made her run from Forks and the only home she knew.**

**All things Twilight belong to SM**

The day started out awesome. I woke up to some nameless, sexy guy, remembering all the ways he was able to make me moan. I didn't make a habit out of getting drunk, but I was still celebrating the news that I received last week. My art mentor, David Banner, told me that out of the 124 art majors, I was one of the five chosen to participate in the university's art show that displayed the works of recognized students.

I was ecstatic and so was everyone I told. Rosalie and my parents were over the moon with joy. Both of my parents were going to take time off to come. They did it every time any of my work was featured anywhere. It could be one piece or twenty, they always supported me.

Rosalie was the same. She was supposed to be my date for the show, but instead I told her to invite to the new boy toy she was playing with, Emmie. Things seemed to be going somewhere between the two of them, based on the way Rosalie always talked about him – and she never gushed about guys. So instead of forcing the Siamese twins to part for a night, I told her to just bring him along as well.

However, as the day progressed I started feeling weird. Not sick, but just strange. To top it off, nothing was going right. While walking back to my dorm suite I shared with Rose, I had a sudden need to paint. When I reached my room, I didn't even bother showering to wash away the smell of Johnny Walker and sex. I grabbed my tote full of supplies and headed down to the studio.

When I walked in I saw someone using the area I particularly liked to work in. There weren't assigned spots, but at this point it was like a given that that area was mine. It was like the coveted corner office in corporate buildings. However, my space was about fifteen square feet with a small window that overlooked the quad.

Working in another area just wouldn't do, so I approached this misinformed girl. I looked over her shoulder to see what she was working on before I told her to leave. And out of everything that she could possibly be painting, she was painting a bowl of fruit! If she was painting something…not so amateur, but more sophisticated and creative, I may have been able to forgive her for taking my space and wasting my time.

I tapped her shoulder, no longer able to stand the anger that was boiling inside as I stared at a banana that had an orange undertone to it. _It wasn't even a good fruit bowl!_

"Yeah?" the girl responded, not even taking her eyes off of her diseased fruit.

"You're in my spot," I told her, simply and calmly, although I felt anything but. I heard her scoff and it took everything in me not to throttle her.

"There are plenty of other open spaces; go find one."

I counted to ten while breathing slowly, just like Rosalie taught me, but it wasn't helping. I tapped her again, harder this time, to ensure she turned to look at me. Really, I just wanted to punch her in her face.

"What the hell is your problem?" she asked before turning around. When she did, her body visibly slumped as she groaned. I smirked at her knowingly. I was a favorite around here with a lot of the professors - not only because of my talent, but because of my devotion to anything art. They knew I spent hours working in the studio, volunteering during art shows, talking with new art majors. And I wasn't ashamed to admit that I would rat to a professor to get my way, especially when it came to studio space.

She packed up her supplies and personal belongings with as much attitude as someone could without talking. I would huff loudly and impatiently just to anger her more. With a final glare, she walked by me.

"Honey, don't be upset – I'm actually doing you a favor. Find a space with better lighting. Maybe then you'll realize that," I said, pointing to her wet canvass, "is complete shit. Trash it and don't embarrass yourself."

"Fuck you, Swan," she spat back at me.

"Eh, your boyfriend already did," I lied. I had no idea if she even had a boyfriend. She was cute so she most likely did.

"What?" Her face was bright red and her nostrils where flaring.

"Calm down. I'm kidding," I laughed. My laughter died down when the girl looked like she was about to cry. "Look, it was a joke in poor taste, sorry. But seriously though, I don't know what your plans are with that painting, but if I were you, I would just scrap it and start all over. The colors are all wrong. If that is something you were going to submit for a grade, you won't do well."

The girl seemed to be listening, heartbroken, but listening. I had no idea what year she was in. She was obviously here long enough to know who I was, but the colors on her canvass were mistakes made by rookies. I overused shades and tones when I was in high school.

"You know who I am so if you want help, just let me know. I'll tell you what you're doing wrong." I was a sucker for a crier. Not because I was a softie, but I wasn't good with tears. Crying made me uncomfortable, which was the reason I rarely, if ever, cried in front of anyone.

"Thanks," she mumbled as she turned to leave towards the exit. I wish I could say I felt bad for telling her, but it was the truth. Unless she fixed these errors now, errors that should have been remedied by this stage in the game, she'd be out of the art program.

The day just got worse from there. I spilt the contents of my water bottle all over my shirt, my pallet dropped and formed a crack, and one of my ear buds wasn't working. About an hour in I was beyond frustrated; I couldn't get the shade of blue I was going for and the yellows were either too bright or too dull. The worst, though, was that I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right.

"What's up?" Rosalie asked from behind me.

"Nothing, really," I answered, without taking my eyes off my color pallet. "Fuck," I mumbled.

"What happened?"

"These colors aren't coming out right and it's pissing me off."

"That sucks, but I got some good news," she said excitedly.

"And what's that?"

"I talked to Em and he's free tomorrow night, so we can all hang out. I'm so excited for you to finally meet him," she squealed while tugging on my sleeve and jumping up and down. If I wasn't aware that she'd already fallen hard for this guy, I would seriously consider she was on something strong.

"Cool. Where do you wanna go?" My phone began ringing before she could answer. I didn't recognize the number, but it was a Forks' area code. "Hold on one second," I said to Rosalie.

"Hello?"

"Hi. Is this Miss Isabella Swan?" the unfamiliar, but formal, voice asked from the other end.

"This is." I took out my other ear bud to give the guy my full attention.

"Miss Swan, I'm Deputy Chief Turner with the Forks PD. This isn't something that I want to discuss over the phone, but I've been informed that you are attending school in Seattle. Is that correct?"

"Yes. What is this pertaining to?"

"Is it possible to take some time away from school to come home?"

"What is this about?" I asked again.

The voiced sighed before continuing. "All I'm willing to say is that it concerns your parents."

"What about my parents?" Rosalie snapped her head towards me at the mention of my parents.

"Miss Swan, please…"

"Tell me," I gritted out, trying my hardest not to cry. That strange feeling was in full force.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Swan," he said and I began sobbing. It wasn't a sorry for not divulging information, it was a sorry for your loss.

"No," I cried loudly, dropping both my phone and body to the floor. "No, no, no." I started pounding on Rose's back as she tried to comfort me in a hug. "Tell me he's lying," I demanded of her. She tried whispering comforting words in my ear, despite her own grief-ridden voice, but I didn't want to hear them – they would only confirm what I didn't want to know.

"It's not true," I screamed while thrashing against her. "My show! They're coming to my show so they can't be dead." My throat was already dry and hoarse from screaming and crying.

My surroundings were mocking me, smiling at me while my life was falling around me. I picked up my iPod and hurled it at the window, shattering the glass. My pallet was the next to go flying across the room and I managed to rip my canvass with my bare hands.

"Bella!," Rose called frantically through tears. "Bella, you have to calm down. We have to go."

"No! My parents aren't dead." I yelled at her, suddenly irate that she was here. "Stop telling me my parents are dead! They're not dead." I raised my fist to her, ready to hurt her for lying to me and agreeing with the cop. She easily dodged my advances and managed to contain me in a bear hug despite my attempts to get free. As the fight left my body, I began sinking to the floor as Rosalie sank with me.

"Why?" I cried into her neck as she continued to hold me. "They didn't do anything to deserve this. It's all my fault – I should have been there."

Rosalie didn't respond but let me keep crying into her shoulder. I don't know how long we sat on that floor. My body had gone numb a long time ago as I stared at nothing, although my eyes were almost swollen shut from crying. My breathing was labored and my head was pounding.

"Bella?" Rose began cautiously. She held me by my upper arms to look at my face. "We're gonna get up now, okay?" I didn't answer, but instead looked at her without actually seeing her. I saw figures and shapes and colors. Without waiting for a response from me, she slowly lifted both of us up off the floor.

The following days were a blur. Rosalie went straight to the police station instead of going home. The temporary Chief told me that they didn't believe it was suspicious, stating something about a faulty heater and carbon monoxide. I heard it all, but none of it registered. I felt like a robot on sleep mode – I walked when I had to walk, sat when told to. But just like sleep mode, I was never truly "off". At nights I stayed in bed, almost catatonic, and stared up at the ceiling in the unfamiliar motel bedroom. Rosalie had explained to me that we weren't allowed in my parents' home until it was deemed habitable again. That was the second time I threw a fit. Not only did these people tell me my parents were dead, but they wouldn't let me stay in the only home I'd ever known.

If it wasn't for Rosalie, nothing would have gotten done. I was just an added appendage, following her everywhere we had to go. I spoke a few words here and there, but most of them nonsensical. She was the one who arranged the wake and burial with the funeral director and had informed the necessary people that my parents already had a plot in the cemetery. All I did was nod and hum when Rosalie asked for confirmation on what she just said.

The actual wake and funeral were…I don't even know. I couldn't really remember anything of it. I'm sure it was nice, though, if Rosalie had anything to do with it. I remember people would approach me, say something and leave, but that's the extent of my knowledge. I don't even know if I approached the two caskets at the front of the viewing room.

I woke up sometime later in a dark, but familiar room this time. Part of my brain was telling me that my parents were put in the ground earlier that day, but I could neither confirm nor deny that fact. A creaking had me turning my head toward the bedroom door, which I recognized as my childhood bedroom, to see Rosalie enter with a glass of orange juice.

"We were given the okay to come home today," she said, answering a question that I didn't even realize I should ask. "How are you feeling?" She placed the glass and two white pills on my nightstand. I looked at the objects, wondering why she placed them there. It was then that I began feeling like my brain was being pushed through a meat grinder.

Slowly, I sat up on my bed. Still not answering her question, I grabbed the pills and juice, swallowing them down, my throat was dry as dirt. When the glass was empty I turned my attention to Rose.

"I'm…" I stopped, not knowing how I should answer. I wasn't okay, I was beyond grief-stricken, and I was completely lost. "I'm fine." I tried looking in her eyes to convince her that she shouldn't be worried about me. We both knew I was lying, but she was my best friend and she didn't need to call me out on my bullshit.

"Mr. Jenks is going to be here tomorrow at ten," she said, as she got up to collect the empty glass. I shook my head and shrugged, not knowing what she was talking about. "You're parents' lawyer. You and I were the only ones named in the will so he didn't think he had to do a formal reading. He's coming over with papers that need to be signed. I'm thinking that the whole thing shouldn't take more than an hour."

I didn't know if Rose was right or not. He did come the next day, but I have no idea what time he came or how long he stayed. And like the robot I was, I signed where I was told, without question.

I was back in my room staring at the ceiling. Just staring, not thinking. Thinking was something that was beyond my realm of capability. The knock at the door made me turn my head. Rose came in, her face showing nothing but worry and sadness. I wanted to ask her what was wrong; to be there for her like she'd always been there for me, but I couldn't even do that.

"I, um…how are you?" she asked instead.

"Fine," I lied again. Her shoulders sagged, but she didn't question.

"I really hate to do this to you, but I just got off the phone with Emmett. He told me that some of my professors said that if I don't show up for class tomorrow, they won't hesitate to fail me. I made some phone calls, but no one is willing to grant me any more time." She sighed and began running her fingers through her hair. I continued looking at her blankly while I waited for her to finish.

"I have to leave tonight so I can make it to my classes for the rest of the week. Right after my last class on Thursday, I'm driving right back. We can stay the weekend if you want, or leave right away." She sounded so worried, or maybe concerned that I would be upset at her sudden departure.

"I'll be fine," I answered robotically, ignoring her last suggestion. I wasn't ready for that train of thought, or any thought for that matter.

"I'm so sorry," she cried lightly. "I really did try to get a little more time away."

"I know," I answered in the same fashion as before. I turned away from Rosalie to continue staring at my ceiling. Deep in my heart I felt bad for the situation I put her in, but my brain didn't register feelings. I don't know how long she stood on my room, silent, before she came over to me. She wrapped her arms around my limp body, her face nestling between my neck and shoulder. As if on their own accord, my arms wrapped around her in return. I hugged her tight, trying to convey my sorrow, love, appropriation, and adoration for not only everything she did these last few days, but for being the best person I know.

"I love you," she sniffled, still buried in my neck. My heart was screaming at me to tell her how much I loved her back, but I couldn't. Instead, I hugged tighter.

I don't know how long I continued to stare up at my ceiling after she left, with tears in her eyes, pain in her voice, as she promised she'd call once she arrived in Seattle. At one point I did hear my cell ringing, but didn't bother to answer. If that was her, than it had to be at least three hours since she had left.

The white ceiling became blurry as my tears clouded my vision and the image of my parents invaded my mind. My head lulled to the side, no longer having the energy to remain looking straight up. I could see my reflection in my small TV, mocking me, taunting me with its lack of needing to…feel.

Angrily, I shot out of my bed with a growl that erupted from the recesses of my body, and shoved the offending object to the floor. When the low thud noise wasn't enough, I began kicking it until the side started to cave in. It wasn't until I stopped that I realized everything in the room was laughing at me.

Pictures were shoved off the shelves, the bookcase was toppled over, drapes were ripped from the window, and the unscarred wall had a perfect fist imprint.

I couldn't breathe and everything was spinning.

And like the robot I was, I put myself in sleep mode but never truly turned off. I lay in my bed like I hadn't just destroyed my room and once again found the more than familiar ceiling. Another one, two, maybe five hours passed and I still hadn't found sleep.

Something, maybe my subconscious, told me to go to my parents' bathroom. Opening up the medicine cabinet I found what would probably be my only saving grace – my mom's Ambien pills. She suffered from insomnia. Whether it was the recommended dosage or not, I swallowed two pills and detoured to my parents' room instead of my own.

It seemed that once my head hit the pillow and I closed my eyes, morning was already upon me. I felt…better, alive.

The smells coming from downstairs were making my stomach growl with need. The aromas from pancakes and sausage and maple syrup sent my eyes rolling to the back of my head. It didn't even register that _someone_ had to be downstairs cooking. Without trying to make myself look decent for whoever was out there, I descended the steps I haven't walked down days.

When I reached the last step, I saw my mother, in all her beautiful glory, and for the first time, everything felt right. This was the way the world should feel – like you just woke up from the worst nightmare you've ever had. In my case, I did. I knew that my parents weren't dead – God wasn't that cruel.

"Hi, Mom," I greeted her, chipper. I dug into my food that was already on the plate and waiting for me. Renee didn't say anything, but turned and smiled brightly at me. I sat and ate, just content to be in her presence after that awful nightmare.

I sat in the kitchen chair for what felt like an hour. No matter how much I ate, the food on my plate never depleted and I never felt full. After another twenty minutes I gave up to go see what my dad was doing.

"Mom, that was awesome. Thanks." I brought my still full plate over to the counter and gave her a kiss on her cheek. "How about I help with dinner tonight?" I offered. Again, she didn't verbally respond, but nodded instead.

"Hey, dad," I said in greeting, squeezing his shoulder as I passed to sit near him on the couch. "Beer and baseball? Don't you think it's kinda early?" I asked. "And shouldn't you be at work?"

Like my mom, he said nothing, opting to smile and shrug instead. They were both acting a little odd, but I'd take that over nothing. As Charlie continued watching a Mariners/Yankee game, I had the time to reflect on my horrible night.

It was the scariest dream I'd ever had. It felt so real – one of those dreams where you wake up and have to take stock of your surroundings just figure out if you were finally in the real world and not dream land. It must have affected me more than I realized, because even still, I felt…odd. It wasn't bad, per se, but I felt so good that it didn't feel right.

My eyes had to be the size of saucers when I glanced at the wall clock. How the hell was it six in the evening? I just had breakfast and I've only been sitting with my dad for ten minutes, tops. I hopped off the couch and hurried to the kitchen.

"Shit, Mom, I don't know what happened; I didn't realize the time," I said in explanation. "Do you want me to help with dinner?"

She looked at me curiously before jerking her head to the side – toward the kitchen table. It was covered in all of our favorites – Dad's favorite fish fry, Mom's favorite chicken Cesar salad, and my Fettuccini Alfredo.

"Holy shit, Mom! You should have called me – I could have helped," I admonished her. I was a little pissed that she did it all herself, but touched at the same time. "I'm gonna go see if Dad wants to eat."

"Hey, Dad?" I called as I walked the twenty feet from the kitchen to the living room. "Are you hungry? Mom…" I stopped in my tracks when I saw that he already had a plate in his hands. "How…?" I looked at him curiously, rather confused, as to how he was able to grab a plate of food without me seeing him.

I walked back to the kitchen, scratching my head, trying to figure out how the hell he preformed _that_ magic trick.

In the kitchen, the leftover food was already wrapped up and ready to be put in the fridge.

"That was a great meal," I found myself saying, knowing that I hadn't even eaten. "What are you doing?"

I looked over her shoulder and saw her reading the creased recipe card for sugar cookies that Charlie's grandmother, my great-grandmother, had given her before I was even born.

"Oh! I wanna help," I said, excitedly. I knew that recipe by heart, and so did Renee so I didn't know why she even bothered taking it out. I grabbed cold ingredients from the fridge. Placing the items on the empty counter space, I turned to get the rest when I saw that Renee already made the dough.

"Jeez, are you on crack or something," I laughed. "You're quick today." Like my father had done earlier, she merely smiled and shrugged. I pre-heated the oven and grabbed a beer for Charlie.

"Dad, you want a beer?" I yelled from the kitchen. When he didn't answer I made the quick walk to the living room, beer in hand. "Dad, you want a beer?" I asked, holding it out in front of me. He held up a fresh can along with a plate of sugar cookies.

"That woman! She hasn't let me help with anything all day," I whined.

Looking at the clock, I was surprised that it was well after midnight. As if on cue, I yawned obnoxiously loud. Bending over, I gave my dad a kiss on the cheek.

"You should put on the heater, Dad. You're kinda cold. Anyway, I'm going to bed. I'll see you tomorrow."

I became conscientious that I was thrashing and as I looked around at my surroundings, I realized I was in my parents' room. More importantly, I knew I was dreaming, or rather having a nightmare, the same one that has plagued me this past week. Though it was rare I ever realized when I was dreaming, for some reason, I knew I was at that moment.

Staring up at the ceiling for what had to be hours, I let the nightmare consume me. I was tired in my dream, completely drained. All the rage and sadness crept into my body, paralyzed me with fear and broke my heart with sadness. My parents were dead and Rosalie had to leave me. I was left utterly alone to face this when I woke.

Everything was familiar in this dream; I knew what I was going to do before I even realized it. Sitting up and getting out of bed, I walked to my parents' bathroom, to reach for the pills. I dryly swallowed another two pink pills.

Before going back to my parents' room, I stopped to take a peek into mine. Just like in my last nightmare, my room was destroyed. Even my dream self knew to just leave it alone since it wasn't really there. I went back to the only place in the house that would bring me the slightest bit of relief. Lying on my parents' bed, I balled up into a fetal position and let all the hurt, sadness, and loss I felt eat at me until my eyes cried themselves dry. It wasn't natural to feel so devastated when dreaming so I waited for the nightmare to morph into something a little more pleasant, but it never did.

I woke up feeling good like the morning before. This time the small of coffee had me floating out of my bed. Just like yesterday morning, Renee had breakfast waiting for me on the table. Charlie was sitting at the table this time as he and my mother were having a quiet conversation. I couldn't hear a word they said, despite sitting right across from them. I chalked it up to my brain static from just having woken up.

My day progressed the same as it did the day before. I sat with Charlie while he watched some guy who sat on a boat fishing. I hated fishing and watching it was worse, but Charlie was really into it so I said nothing and sat and watched it with him.

I didn't actually feel it, but I knew that my legs were falling asleep which was a great excuse to go see what Renee was doing. With my jelly legs, I wobbled over to the kitchen.

When I entered the kitchen, Renee looked at me and rolled her eyes playfully. She didn't need to say what was on her mind – I already knew. Charlie was planning his next fishing trip, probably thinking of a way to get us to join him.

I followed in step with my mom as she flattened out the dough for cinnamon rolls and sprinkled the cinnamon sugar generously on top. When it was rolled, cut, and placed in the oven, I took notice of the clock. It was nine at night.

Renee was nowhere to be seen when I turned back around, and neither was Charlie. Figuring they turned in already, I did the same.

My nightmare was redundant and I wish I could say that I was bored with it, but that wasn't the case. I always felt the pain, whether it was physical or mental, and the tears that saturated the pillows. This nightmare was far too real to become complacent with. My pain and emotions were more evident during my sleeping hours than my hours spent awake with my parents.

Like the past two nights, I found myself downing pink pills. It was like my dream self had become dependent on these little oblong pills. Following my nightmare ritual, I peeked into my room to make sure it was the way it always was in my dream – destroyed and void of any happiness.

Waking up from my nightmare was always blissful and never lonely. My parents were always there and everything was right in the world. As the day passed I watched TV with Charlie and helped Renee in the kitchen. It was odd that when I ate breakfast I never got full, and when it came time for dinner I was never hungry. Tonight, I helped put away the lasagna that I never touched.

Like every night, my body and mind knew that I was dreaming. I laid in my parents' bedroom, staring up at the ceiling as my tears ran down the sides of my face and flooded my ears. It wasn't normal for dreams to have such an impact on the subconscious. Every night I wished that these nightmares and feelings would just end me as I always felt as if I couldn't go on any longer.

Mechanically, I rose and went to the bathroom. With shaky hands, I grabbed the white bottles, needing the relief that the pink pills brought. I was having difficulty opening the bottle this night. When I did manage it, the last three pills went tumbling down the drain.

"Fuck," I cried, as I tried to shove my hand down the drain that was way too small. Slowly, my body fell to the floor as the pain threatened to take complete control over my being. These nightmares were slowly killing me and all I could do was hope that my demise would be quick.

Somehow, I managed to get myself back to my parents' room. I wrapped myself in the comforter, waiting to be woken from this hell. Eventually, it came, but hell never left.

As I opened my eyes, I still felt like my body had been abused in the worst way. Renee's cooking wasn't working. As a matter of fact, I couldn't smell anything at all. Despite my body's protest, I unwrapped myself, surprised to find that I had woken up in my parents' bedroom.

"Mom?" I called, as I descended the steps. The house was dark, only letting in natural light from the windows. When Renee didn't respond, I called out again. I needed her in the worst way right now. I just wanted to be held by my mother.

However, she wasn't in the kitchen and Charlie wasn't in the living room. Frantically, I searched the whole house. Nothing. They couldn't have just up and left without saying anything to me.

I ran to the living room for the phone, deciding that I needed to try either of their cell phones. I dialed my mom's number first. I heard the ring back as I impatiently waited for her to pick up.

"Shit!" Hanging up, I dialed Charlie's number next, to no avail. When I slammed the cordless on the coffee table, a prayer card with St. John Francis Regis on it caught my eye. He was my mother's favorite saint. I flipped it over and dropped it like it was white hot. A strangled cry caught in my throat as the card mocked me from its place on the floor. Staring back at me was a picture of Charlie and Renee.

Like a tidal wave, everything came crashing down on me. My parents were dead. Their bodies were six feet under for not even a week. It couldn't be real, though. To prove that prayer card wrong, I ran back to the kitchen; all those leftovers would be proof enough that they weren't dead and that prayer card was a vicious, ugly lie.

But I couldn't. The fridge was empty, only housing three water bottles and a box of Arm and Hammer. I backed away slowly, cautiously. This wasn't happening to me. How could my parents be dead if I was just cooking with my mother not twelve hours ago?

I felt something behind me, I turned in a flash. It was Charlie's image, but it was like I was in a bad horror movie as the image blew away as soon as my eyes landed on it. I reached for it, begged it to come back for me – not to leave me alone.

I couldn't stay in this house. This very house that I loved with all my heart, where I grew up, held nothing for me anymore. It's only purpose now, to slowly drive me insane.

With speed and power I didn't know I possessed, I ran from the only sanctuary I'd ever known and never looked back.


	19. Chapter 19

**AN: This is a regular chapter (chap 19) - a continuation of the story. Just so there's no confusion I DID update a chapter yesterday as well. I guess you can consider chap 18 a prologue. You don't have to read it but it might better help understand (or hate) Bella. **

**As always, beta'd by the darling SereineinNC. And I don't own Twilight.**

Edward was wide-eyed and slightly slack-jawed. I couldn't tell if he believed me or just thought I was crazy.

"Do you think you're ready for that?" he finally asked.

"No," I answered confidently. "But this gives me a reason. I know me, and I doubt I would have gone back to that house. If I did, though, it wouldn't have been anywhere in the near future. This is like a push…actually, like a shove, to get me going."

Honestly, though, I felt like I wanted to vomit. Everything in me was saying to shut the hell up or admit that I wasn't brave enough to go back to Forks. What if I ran into someone I went to school with – who somehow knew how my sanity had slipped between my fingers? But more importantly, what if I saw _them_ again while I was in the house?

"When do you think you want to go?" he asked.

"I think I need to wait until after the holidays, but as soon as possible after that. The sooner I go, the sooner I can get a job," I rationalized.

"Alright," Edward mused. "I'll talk to Mrs. Cope tomorrow and see if I can work something out."

"Thanks," I said, trying to sound as appreciative as I could. I was grateful, but the more I thought about it, the less appealing everything sounded. I was trying to be as confident and strong as I was leading Edward to believe, but nothing could be further from the truth.

**XxX**

Most of the next day was spent racking my brain for_ eight_ gifts that I needed in less than two weeks. I counted the money that Jasper had given me and was surprised to find that I had more than eighty dollars left. Not only did I have no idea what I was supposed to get, but I had no idea if I even had enough.

I called Edward at work, asking for permission to use his computer again. This time, however, I was steering clear of YouTube and strictly searching for gift ideas. I had been searching for nearly an hour when, oddly enough, a spam pop- up gave me an idea.

I remembered Emmett told me that he was somewhat religious, so I figured that maybe the rest of the Cullens were, too. After searching online for an additional two hours, I found prayers and odes that I believed suited them all, with the exception of Isabel. Despite the fact that she was two going on twenty, I didn't think it was something that she would want. I would have to think of something different for her.

As the day progressed so did my excitement. I hadn't had this feeling since I painted that portrait for Edward. I had been itching to get my hands on some kind of paint and brushes since the last time. I was bubbling with excitement couldn't sit still. I began pacing the apartment like the crack-heads at the warehouse when they were waiting for another hit.

Edward came home three hours later and I was ready to pounce.

"Hey. How was your day?" I asked, trying to gauge his mood.

"Busy. I had three consecutive surgeries – all more than two hours long. I'm ready to sleep."

I looked at the clock and it was only 5 PM.

"Oh," I said, unable to hide my disappointment. "Alright then. I'll be in my room."

"Why do you sound like that?" he asked, pursing his lips. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I just didn't even take into account that you'd be tired when you got home, which was dumb on my part."

"Did you need something? Want to _tell_ me something?" He narrowed his eyes and challenged me with his stare. I fought against rolling my eyes.

"No, there's nothing I have to _tell_ you, but do you think you could call Alice for me? I need a ride somewhere. I'd walk but I'm not sure where I'm going," I explained.

"A ride where?" His tone became angry and accusatory.

"Christ, Edward. I need a ride to an arts and crafts store but I don't know where there's one around here. I don't plan on blowing anyone while I'm out if that's what you're thinking," I snapped back. I knew he still had every right to be cautious and skeptical, but I thought I was doing a pretty good job to show that I was getting my life back together. It seemed like it was always going to be an uphill battle with him and I was never going to win.

"Oh…well…I can take you if you want."He sounded remorseful, but it didn't escape my attention that he didn't apologize for his assumption. I was fine with that as long as _he_ realized he was wrong.

The car ride was tense. I was still a little upset at Edward's harsh, although probably accurate, assumption. I was trying my hardest to not let it bother me, but it continued to be a painful tug on my heart.

"I am sorry, you know," Edward said, breaking through the awkward silence. "About what I said before. It was wrong of me to think the worst."

"No…it wasn't," I confessed. "And I think that's what bothers me the most – that I can't really blame anyone for thinking of me that way. I mean, yeah, it sucks, but I can only blame myself for that," I ranted.

The awkward silence returned and I was left drowning in my thoughts.

"I just want to know when it stops. When can I get rightfully mad at someone for thinking I'm nothing more than a street whore?" I asked when the silence became too much.

"No one says that you can't get mad at them now," he said, while glancing at me as he drove.

"How can I be mad at the truth?" I argued.

He didn't answer until we were stopped at a red light.

"Is it the truth? Are you nothing but a street whore? Is that all there is to you?"

"Not anymore." I tried to sound confident and knew I was failing miserably. It was the truth, though. I may have just recently only been another girl on the street, but I knew that that wasn't me anymore. I was trying to be the person that I was once – the girl whose parents could be proud of.

"Well then, it's not the truth, so get mad," he countered intently. "Look, I'm not going to lie to you and say tomorrow everything is going to be all better. We both know that's not the truth. But you're working on making it better and that's what counts. So if I, or anyone for that matter, says something that knocks you down, stand right back up and push back. No one is going to fight this battle for you, but there'll sure as hell be people at every corner trying to stand in the way. Don't let them – even if it's me."

The light turned green then, effectively halting all conversation. The silence in the car the rest of the way was slightly less thick. I had no idea what Edward was thinking, but I was going over everything he told me in my mind. In a very unorthodox way, Edward was becoming my strongest ally.

When we arrived at the store, I had told Edward that it wasn't necessary for him to come inside with me since I wasn't going to be long. I knew exactly what I needed and it was only a matter of finding an associate to help me locate the items. What was supposed to be a twenty minute trip turned into an hour. I got lost in the store, not because I couldn't find my way around, but because I was a kid in the candy store. Everything I saw needed special attention or was given an assignment for a project imagined in my head. It wasn't until Edward, who seemed a little worried, found me in the unfinished wood section and practically dragged me away, that I finally paid for my stuff and left.

I apologized profusely on the way home for losing track of time. He continuously dismissed all apologies with a chuckle. The man, bless his heart, even let me go on and on about a new type of oil paint that the store carried. He even listened to my argument about the pros and cons of alla prima.

**XxX**

"Do you have a printer here?" I asked Edward when we finally arrived home. I was eager to get started on everyone's gift.

"Yeah. The laptop is connected to the printer in my room. Need to print something?"

"I do, but…I can't let you see it. It's part of the gifts. Do you think I could just run in there and grab them? It'll take two seconds?"

"Yeah, no problem. I'm going to take a shower anyway."

While Edward showered, I pulled up all the different sites I had book-marked and sent them over to the printer. By the time Edward was finished with his shower I had everything I needed to start.

I laid out what I needed on the desk, only working with certain things at a time. In front of me was the first 10x10 canvas, the prayer I printed out for Emmett, and my new calligraphy pens, which cost the most out of everything I bought today.

Calligraphy wasn't something that I did often. I wasn't fond of it – I always thought of it as a useless and slightly pretentious skill. But because of my need to learn everything possible, I took more than one course on calligraphy, on my own time. Because I hadn't done it in such a long time, I first practiced the whole alphabet on a sheet of paper before putting the pen to canvas. I was surprised that it actually came back pretty easily.

Just to write Emmett's prayer took about an hour. I hadn't even decorated the boarder yet. It wasn't until I was in the middle of the prayer for Jasper that Edward knocked on the door. I ran to open it before he could come in and see what I was working on. He handed me a slice of pizza and began to walk away with his hands up, in a surrendering position.

"Edward, wait!" I called out, suddenly remembering something. "Does Isabel have a favorite character, like a princess or something?"

"I'd say Belle from Beauty and the Beast," he replied, smirking.

"Oh, the irony in that." I shook my head and walked back to the room, pizza still in hand. I would have to print out a picture of her later.

The more I wrote, the easier it became. What once took an hour, only took forty minutes. However, when everything was finally transferred over to canvas, my hand was cramped, leaving me to finish the borders tomorrow. When I looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand, it read well over midnight. I hadn't even felt the time go by. Once everything was neatly organized, I realized that the one slice of pizza I had long ago lost its sustenance.

I quietly walked into the kitchen only to find Edward, who I thought was sleeping, on the phone.

"You're a doll; I can't wait to meet up for lunch," he said to the other person. His smile was wide and his eyes glowed with excitement, as he listened to the woman speak. "Thanks a lot, Shel. Have a good night."

I wanted to creep back into my room, but I was frozen in my spot listening to every word he said and straining to hear what she said, though it was impossible. Who was Shel? And more importantly, why did it sting that he was talking to another woman so late at night?

I waited a few seconds before fully entering the kitchen so it didn't seem like I was eavesdropping.

"What are you still doing up?" I asked, trying not to sound guilty for trying to be sneaky. Edward, on the other hand didn't look guilty at all – not that he had a reason to.

"I just got off the phone with one of the nurses, Shelly," he replied, still smiling. I tried not to roll my eyes. I also wasn't very hungry anymore.

"Cool. I'm going to sleep." I placed my plate a little too loudly in the sink and turned to leave a little too dramatically.

"Bella, wait," he called out. I sneered and huffed quietly before turning back. "Aren't you going to ask me what we were talking about?"

"No. It's none of my business." I crossed my arms over my chest. I wasn't so stupid that I didn't realize that I was probably developing a crush on him and experiencing some jealousy.

"It kind of is," he countered.

"Why, because it'd be another test I'd have to pass?" I snapped. "You're never gonna fucking trust me, anyway. What the fuck is the point?"

"Who the hell said anything about a test?" he replied in the same angry tone I used. "Besides, you think because you stayed home a few times by yourself you've proved you can be trusted? Big fucking whoop." He took a few calming breaths before continuing. "Look, Shel or Shelly or Mrs. Cope is the nurse with the niece who owns the bakery."

Oh.

"Anyway," he continued, though still aggravated, "I told her that you lost your information in a house fire and that it's going to take you a while to obtain it all again. She talked to her niece, Angela, and she's willing to give you a try while you wait for everything. Shelly set up a lunch date for us to meet Angela. You're welcome," he said as he brushed by me.

"I'm sorry, Edward," I apologized, walking after him quickly to catch up. "I shouldn't have gotten pissy like that. I thought you were trying to rub a date in my face," I said, telling him the truth despite feeling like an idiot.

He stopped and spun around suddenly. "And why would it upset you if I had a date?"

"Because…then…it would take away from your work," I lied horribly. "I'm going to bed." I whipped around, fast, trying to escape the embarrassing situation.

"That was the worst lie I've ever heard, but I'll let it slide. Night, Bella." I could hear the amusement, and horror, in his voice.

**XxX**

As I was getting ready to leave with Edward for his parents', he called me from the kitchen.

"What's up?" I asked, as I watched him stand with his hand behind his back.

"Nothing. I just wanted to give you this before we left." He handed me a small wrapped package, catching me completely off guard.

"Edward...you shouldn't have gotten me anything." He already gave me so much just by not kicking me out; giving me another chance when I thought he had had it with me.

"I know I didn't have to – I wanted to. Now just open it." He smiled and nudged my shoulder, indicating for me to unwrap the gift.

I wanted to act like I was one of those people who opened a gift delicately, making sure to get the tape first, then unfold the paper. But I wasn't. I was one of those people who tore into a gift full force.

My hand froze mid-air when I saw what was in my hand.

"Are you sure this was meant for me?" I needed clarification that the iPhone that I held in my hand was for me and not some cruel, but hopefully unintentional, mistake.

"Yes, it's for you. You need a phone don't you?" he jested.

"I guess, but an iPhone? I would have gotten myself a prepaid phone eventually." I didn't mean to sound ungrateful if I was, but an iPhone was a lot for a gift.

"Just take it and smile. You won't hear me say this again, but you're doing well, Bella. You deserve something good to come your way." He smiled and walked away, ending the discussion. I was the owner of an iPhone!

**XxX**

Just like Thanksgiving, I felt like I shouldn't be invading their holiday. This time for a few reasons, but the main one was Rosalie. We still hadn't talked. I tried calling her; leaving message after message, begging her to forgive me or at least call me back. Nothing. Three days ago I even had Edward call Emmett to see if maybe I could get through to her that way. I didn't get far, though. When Edward called, Emmett informed him that Rose just started talking to him the day before. I was determined to make this holiday different, though. I didn't want the awkwardness or hostility of Thanksgiving. If Rose didn't want to talk to me, I would respect that and not broach the subject with her. Though, frankly, she already made it clear where she stood and I completely understood.

As Edward grabbed the portrait for his parents and an additional bag of gifts, I grabbed my bag of gifts and the ones Edward couldn't. The pathway was almost completely covered with black ice and more than once I had to right myself before falling straight on my ass.

"Merry Christmas," Carlisle sang as he opened the door before we were even on the top step.

"Merry Christmas, Dad." Edward placed the portrait under an arm and tried, although awkwardly, to hug his father.

"Merry Christmas, Carlisle," I greeted timidly, hoping that he really did want me here. I had talked to Edward at great length about what his parents knew. He told me that they knew mostly everything, but assured me that they wouldn't bring anything up.

"Merry Christmas, sweetie." He stooped down to grab my bags and gave me a kiss on the cheek. "You know you didn't have to bring anything."

"Of course I did. Just think of it as thanks for all the food from Thanksgiving," I joked. "The house looks amazing by the way."

The whole house – around the windows and door – were lined with colorful lights. I was partial to multi-colored lights as opposed to plain white ones. On the roof was a Santa in his sleigh with his reindeer looking like they were ready to take flight. On the lawn was the classic Nativity scene.

"Thanks, but that was all Esme. I was just the sexy muscle," he retorted, winking.

I stopped dead in my tracks and gawked at him. That was awesome…and hilarious. I looked to Edward to see if he had heard. He stood in his spot looking down and shaking his head. He had.

"He's obviously had his fair share of eggnog." He continued to shake his head.

"Eh, he's only speaking the truth," I teased back. I don't know where the playful attitude was coming from, but it felt good, especially since it was with someone I respected like Carlisle.

"Thatta girl," Carlisle cheered. "Edward's just jealous that I'm the pretty one."

I choked back at laugh. A drunk Carlisle, although I knew he was more lucid than Edward was giving him credit for, was hysterical and bold. If for no other reason, tonight would go over well if I could just hang around Carlisle.

"So who's here, anyway?" Edward asked, not-so-subtly changing the subject. Carlisle and I laughed a little more at that.

"Everyone. We were waiting on the two of you."

Fuck. Reality came crashing down once I realized I had to face Rosalie in a few seconds.

Inside the house was just as beautifully decorated, if not more, than the outside. On one side of every other step rested a wooded nutcracker soldier, about two feet tall each. Giant ball ornaments hung sporadically from the ceiling. Like the outside of the house, lights traced around every entry way.

The Christmas tree was…amazing. It had to be at least seven feet tall and full. Walking into the room, the pine smell was immediately recognizable – not the smell that companies tried to recreate with an aerosol can, but the true Christmas tree smell. I could stand in the same spot all night, inhaling the wonderfully tainted air around me.

"It's about time," Esme playfully chided. "Merry Christmas, Bella, Edward." She wrapped me in a too tight hug and swayed a little. When she finally pulled back she looked into my eyes and I could see the glossiness in hers – the sadness. My heart shattered. Not only because of her tenderness and caring for me, someone she hardly knew, but because it made the longing for my own mother that much worse.

"Merry Christmas, Esme," I choked out. "Your house…jeez, it's beautiful. You did a great job with it."

"Thank you," she beamed. "Everyone is already settled inside. I'll be there in a minute." She motioned for me to go inside while she stayed behind to talk to Edward who was now present-less since Carlisle put them all under the tree.

Upon entering the living room, I was met by a joyous crowd – not like the way I was feeling. Yes, I was happy to be here and extremely grateful that I was invited in the first place, but my emotions were taking a nose dive. It was like the effort to include me was counter-productive.

"Hey, guys," I greeted, breaking up the different conversations. "Merry Christmas."

I was greeted with a chorus of Merry Christmases and a round of hugs from everyone. I noticed that Rosalie was not in the room, but I wasn't going to inquire about her – at least not out loud. I'd ask Emmett when I got him alone.

Everyone was happy, going back to their separate conversations. Even Edward joined in on a few before he finally settled on hanging out with Isabel, who looked like she had already opened some gifts.

"How's Rose?" I asked Emmett when I finally got the chance to talk to him privately. "Is she here?"

"She's here. She's helping Mom in the kitchen. She's doing okay, I guess. She saw her therapist, so that helped."

"What?" I gasped. "What therapist?"

"I told you. The therapist she began seeing helped her a lot so Rose kept her number when she stopped going every week. Rosalie called her last week."

Rose had to go seek professional help? Because of me? And it wasn't like this was years, or even months ago, but this was just a few days ago. Telling her was a bad idea. I should have just let her believe whatever she wanted to about me. I should have been a good friend and let sleeping dogs lie.

"Talk to her," Emmett went on. "Even if it gets you nowhere, though I doubt that, both of you need to sit down and talk about everything. I mean from the time you left to right now. Rosalie loves you and that hasn't changed." He was interrupted when Esme came to tell us that dinner was ready.

The table was just as beautiful and full as it was last time. Rosalie was already seated, but refused to look anywhere in my direction. If she wasn't fussing over Isabel, she was fiddling with her silverware; looking up only when someone addressed her.

A prayer was led by Carlisle. Still, Rosalie looked everywhere and at everyone, but me. If she didn't even acknowledge me, then talking to her would be difficult without having to force her.

Unlike Thanksgiving, everyone immediately broke off to continue conversations or start completely new ones.

"So, Bella, what's new with you?" Carlisle asked innocently, but still caused the table to go silent. Even Isabel went quiet, although it was because everyone else did. It didn't stop her from gnawing on a dinner roll.

"Um…I might have a job."

"Oh yeah? Where?" Esme asked.

"At a bakery. A nurse down at the hospital has a niece who owns it and she needs help. Edward is helping me." I saw Esme quickly smirk, but it left as quickly as it appeared.

"Oh, Mrs. Cope," Jasper interjected.

"I didn't know you could bake," Alice interjected.

"It's not something I do seriously," I corrected. "I think the most professional baking I ever did was a wedding cake for a friend in college." My eyes went to Rosalie, hoping she remembered. However, she darted her attention to Isabel, but not before I caught her small smile. She did remember!

"That's wonderful!" Alice exclaimed.

"Yeah." I kept my eyes on Rose. "I'm also planning on going back to Forks," I said slowly, waiting for some kind of reaction from her.

I saw Rosalie drop her fork and heard the loud clatter as it hit her plate.

"Mom-mom, too loud," Isabel admonished her, but easily went back to her plate.

"What..why?" Rose asked, finally looking at me. She wasn't happy.

"I have to; it's time."

The table became silent for too long before Jasper, thankfully, started a conversation with Edward about something regarding the hospital. Everyone caught on, talking about this or that. Rosalie remained silent, but now and then I caught her wiping at her eyes.

Dinner dragged on as if the awkwardness had never happened. Once again, I ate everything on my plate, leaving no crumb behind. I noticed that everyone else's plate looked a lot cleaner this time around, too.

Another forty minutes later everyone convened around the tree, eating their dessert while Isabel ripped through gifts, tossing them aside once the wrapping paper was gone. She wasn't interested in the gifts that were hidden behind the paper as much as the paper itself. Everyone took pictures with their own cameras and phones and clicked away at her. I wanted to do the same but I left my new phone at home. After everything was unwrapped, she asked Rosalie for a pen to draw on the wrapping paper – the hundreds of dollars worth of gifts forgotten.

The Cullens were generous, to say the least. Vacations and laptops were exchanged like trading cards. Frankly, it was a little daunting and intimidating. I had no idea that these people were so well off. I mean, this house could have been a give away, but there was a huge modesty about it.

I held my bag of gifts to my side, unsure. I knew that no one expected me to bring anything, but still. I felt like an idiot showing up with gifts for everyone that cost me less than a hundred bucks, so I sat to the side and took mental pictures of everything.

"Mom, Dad, this is from me," Edward said, bringing the portrait from behind the tree.

Esme and Carlisle tore the paper together, in front of everyone like it was a show. I heard Carlisle gasp as his eyes went wide and Esme cry. A lump began to form in my throat.

"Lemme see," Isabel and Alice whined at the same time, sounding eerily alike. Slowly, Carlisle turned it around to face everyone.

"Oh my God," Alice whispered, bringing her hand to her mouth, her eyes darting to mine. "It's beautiful."

"How did you do this?" Esme asked Edward, her voice filled with awe

"Bella did it. I just gave her the picture." He sounded proud. Whether he was proud of his idea or proud of my work, I wasn't sure.

"You did this?"Carlisle asked me. I nodded. "Edward and Rosalie told us you were an artist, but this…there are no words. It's better than the picture itself."

"That's what I said," Edward commented.

Edward's parents carefully handed the painting over to Alice while they embraced Edward. It was a hug that you could just tell was shared between people who loved and respected each other. I found it heart breaking.

As soon as they let go of Edward, Esme hugged me just as affectionately. It was a motherly hug – just not from my mother.

"I um…got something for everyone," I announced after Carlisle let me go. "It's nothing big or expensive," I was quick to clarify.

"You didn't have to," Alice said.

"I know, but I really wanted to. Think of it as a thank you for everyone's generosity and including me in holidays."

I began pulling out each small package and handing them out. I even managed to get a tight smile from Rosalie. Isabel was just happy that she had something else to rip apart.

I had managed to decorate everyone's gift personally; no one having the same border. Even Carlisle and Esme received one each as I was never a fan of a dual gift. However, I was worried about the redundancy of my gift to them since they already received a portrait from Edward.

"I recognize this," Jasper excitedly said. "It was written by another doctor."

I was glad that he knew it, though I hadn't before I started searching. When I read it, I was immediately reminded of Jasper and how he helped me time and time again. I truly felt that I could never repay him and his friendship was invaluable.

"You made these?" Emmett questioned, looking around at everyone else's gifts.

"Well, they're not my words; I picked what I thought suited every person, except Isabel. I figured a drawing might be better – for her room or something. But anyway, I printed them out, copied them and added the borders."

"This calligraphy is…it's so good it doesn't look real," Esme said, shaking her head in amazement.

"This is small fries for Bella," Rosalie complemented from across the room. My head snapped to her in complete disbelief. I don't know if it was foolish, but I had a flicker of hope that maybe Rosalie wasn't completely angry at me; there was still hope for us yet.

"You have to see her work, guys," Alice spoke up. "I swear she could be the next Picasso or Rembrandt or freaking Michelangelo." She stopped when everyone began laughing; including me. It was a bit of a stretch. "I'm serious. She showed me a show of her stuff and I wanted to cry." I rolled my eyes at her dramatics. She shoved me playfully in reply.

"Are you going to pick it up again, dear?" Carlisle asked, and a deep sadness immediately enveloped me.

"Maybe." I shrugged. "If I get the job at the bakery I might be able to save up for some supplies, but there's a lot I would need and the costs add up. Right now I can't put it on the top of my list."

"Well, maybe this will help." Jasper handed me a red envelope. The front of it reading "Merry Christmas, Bella."

"Aw, guys, thanks for the card."

"Just open the card, Bella." Edward rolled his eyes, smirking at the same time.

I took the card at of the envelope and began reading the front of it. The words were beautiful, but nothing out of the ordinary. I felt a slight bulge and was careful when opening it up. Inside were multiple gift cards to various stores. It came on too quick to stop it and my eyes welled up with tears that dropped fast.

Three cards, from Wal-Mart, Old Navy, and Victoria's Secret had $300 each. The fourth card, from that arts and craft store I had shopped at, had $1000. My eyes widened when I read the black marker that the amount was written with, and I was gone. I was blubbering like a baby, truly not caring how stupid I probably looked. My knees became weak and I sunk down on the nearest seat.

These people…the ones who didn't really know me but were aware of my sordid past, gave me so much hope. It wasn't about the amount that each card held; it was more than that. They were giving me the means to a new beginning that I thought I had to get on my own. Everyone proved to me time and time again how wrong I had been in thinking I was alone in this world…and I could never be more thankful.

"I…you…" That was all that came out before a new round of tears came.

"That's from the whole family," Emmett said. "We figured you knew best about what you would need or want." I nodded and shook my head frantically, unsure how to answer when I wasn't even able to stop crying.

It took almost a half hour for me to calm down and thank everyone properly. I went as far as to scoop down and give Isabel a squeezing embrace in appreciation. Even Rosalie gave me a timid hug.

"Guys!" Emmett shouted. When he had everyone's attention he continued. "There's one more gift."

He knelt down in front of a shocked Rosalie. "Rose, I think I've loved you from our first date. Something told me then that you were the person that people told me about – the one you live and breathe for. The one who makes you forget about everything that happened before them. You gave me the best gift ever when you had our daughter. I know that the time had never been right before, but I'm hoping it is now. Will you marry me?"

My eyes, shining with tears for a different reason this time, darted between a kneeling Emmett and a crying Rosalie. The room was completely silent – I don't think anyone dared to make a noise in fear of ruining the moment.

Rosalie made eye contact with me before looking back at Emmett and smiling. "Yes."

The whole room erupted in cheers and applause. Even Isabel, who had no clue what was going on, threw her little arms in the air, going along with the adults.

Rose and Emmett made their rounds, hugging and kissing everyone. I waited my turn to give my congratulations.

Emmett hugged me tight, whispering a thank you in my ear. I knew what he was referring to, but refused to take any credit. Rose would have come to her senses eventually and realized she was wasting time by not marrying him.

Emmett left me to hug his mother once again as Rose made her way up to me.

"Can I hug you?" I asked. Before she was even done nodding I threw myself at her. I knew her back was aching with how tight my hold was. I think I even heard something crack, but I wasn't letting go. It was Rosalie that finally pushed me away gently but didn't back away.

"Will you be my maid of honor?"

Again, I was blubbering, my snot being absorbed by her sweater as I cried into her shoulder, nodding my consent.

I was still her best friend.

**AN: Thanks again for reading. Here's the link to Jasper's prayer if you want to read it (It was my favorite out of all of them) godfaithpen 2009/08/03/a-doctors-prayer/**

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	20. Chapter 20

**AN: I didn't get through many review replies last chapter so I apologize. I got caught up trying to finish this chapter. It is an EPOV as you can see. I'm not sure if this will be the last one or one of the few.**

**All things Twilight belong to SM**

**EPOV**

Bella was silent the whole way home, even her breaths were only lightly audible.

"You okay over there?" I asked, playfully shaking her knee.

"Yeah."

"You're awfully quiet right now." I tried again, hoping to get a little more out of her.

"I'm just overwhelmed, I guess," she said, shrugging and not looking at me.

I wasn't going to get much out of her so I left it alone. I hoped, though, that if she wanted to talk later she would come find me, or call Rosalie, something. I was aware of her enough now to know that her silence at the moment wasn't one of happy contemplation over the events that took place tonight. It was a tense, and maybe even depressive, silence.

We reached the condo's garage and still she said nothing. I left all my gifts in the car, not in the mood to carry five bags of varying weight. I even had a plan for the gift the Bella gave me. Since my office at the hospital was lacking of any personal affects, except for the photo of my family and the one of Isabel, I was going to find the right spot and hang it.

I was truly surprised by her gift. I knew it was going to be something artsy – I had taken her to the store myself – but it was more detailed than I assumed it was going to be. I saw the pens when she bought them but I didn't think they were anything special. I wasn't familiar with calligraphy but anyone with functioning eyes could see how difficult it was, especially perfecting it like she had. The topper, though, what really made my jaw drop, was how she decorated the border. Each corner had the lion from the Cullen crest. The lion, that looked like it was made from fire, stood proudly on its hind legs, roaring at its invisible enemy. It surpassed anything that I expected from her. I knew she was good, amazing actually, but unlike the last time, this was all her with no direction from others. I couldn't even explain it. Art never interested me before, and really it still doesn't, but Bella's made me take notice. Maybe I was just in awe of her skill. That had to be it since I hadn't seen her previous work.

"You hungry?" I asked, though I knew she would refuse. And she did.

"I'm going to bed." Her voice was dull – a miserable monotone. In the brief second she looked at me I could tell that I was on point - something was not right. It wasn't because her eyes were still red and puffy from crying, though she supposedly stopped over an hour ago. Her eyes were voided of all emotion. She didn't seem tired, happy, sad, or as she claimed, overwhelmed. There was nothing.

I watched as she dragged her body down the short hallway to her room. The apartment was so quiet I could hear the faint click of the lock mechanism keeping Bella in or shutting everyone out.

I went to bed shortly after. I contemplated going to her one more time, but figured she needed the night to think, and having me pester her would only make things worse. Besides, my shift started at six in the morning; it was already late and I was tired.

**XxX**

I woke up the next morning to absolute quiet. There was no sign that Bella had left the room at any point. I hadn't expected for her to be awake since it was only five in the morning, but I thought there would be _something_ to let me know she had at least left the room at some point during the night.

As busy as my day was, it still dragged on. My hours were filled with nothing but minor surgeries and paperwork.

I tried calling Bella on the house phone and her new phone, but never received an answer. I was worried, but not to the point where I thought I should call someone to check in on her. I knew what it was like to have those days where I wanted to be left alone. However, if after tonight she didn't at least talk to me then I would call Rosalie, or even Alice.

"Dr. Cullen?" Mrs. Cope called out to me while I was waiting for the elevator.

"Hi. How are you today?" I greeted.

"I'm well, thank you. How was your Christmas?" she asked.

"Great, thanks for asking." She actually reminded me that I had the gift that Bella gave me, in my office, waiting for me to hang. "Yours?"

"Quiet. The way I like them," she laughed. "The reason I stopped you, actually, was that Angela wanted to know if it was possible to meet up tomorrow? I think she's eager for the help."

"Um…can I get back to you later? Bella wasn't feeling well this morning so I don't want to commit her to anything at the moment." Honestly, I didn't know if she'd be willing to go tomorrow.

"Oh, sure. Call me tonight if you can." We said our goodbye and headed in different directions.

My day was almost over; I could see the finish line to end this long day. I made my final notes on one of my many cases of the day and gathered my things.

I sat in my car, thinking. It was the only moment that I had to sit peacefully and just think. Right now it was about Bella. I couldn't positively say that something was wrong last night, but my gut was telling me there was. I may have not have paid attention to her in the past, but over the time she's been with me I began noticing little things about her.

For example, if she was upset about something she became quiet, but she would shake her head and dart her eyes all around, as if she were having a silent conversation, or argument, inside her head. She would also exhale harshly through her nose, like a bull.

However, if she was happy, she was talkative from the moment I stepped through the door. She wouldn't exactly say anything outright, rather, she'd hint around, waiting for me to ask her about her day.

That's why I had a strong feeling that something was wrong. She didn't huff or talk, but remained eerily calm and detached.

Before I confirmed that I actually wanted to, I was dialing Rosalie's number, going against what I told myself earlier.

"Ed-dee," Isabel answered the phone.

"Hi, pretty girl. Can I talk to Mommy?" I laughed. It was crazy how in love with the phone that little girl was already. I'd seen firsthand how she'd run to the phone to answer when she heard it ringing.

I heard Isabel call for her mom and run with the phone in her hand.

"What's up, Edward?" Rose answered.

"Nothing much. You busy?"I asked.

"I have a two year old. I'm always busy," she deadpanned.

"Ha ha, but that's not what I meant. I need to talk to you; preferably tonight."

"What's wrong with Bella?" She sounded worried when there may not have even been a reason to be.

"Nothing," I was quick to say. I could have been jumping to conclusions, but I didn't see how it was possible for me not to. "I do need to talk to you about her, but it's nothing you need to worry about."

"Mmhmm." She wasn't convinced. "Stop by if you want to."

Nothing much was said after and I drove directly to Rose.

**XxX**

"What are you doing here?" Emmett asked when he opened the door.

"Hi to you, too. I have to talk to Rose."

"Bella," he said knowingly.

"Do you think that's the only reason I would come over to talk to Rose? If it's about Bella?" I asked, a bit irritated that they both already knew what it was about.

"No, but lately that's the only reason you do. For someone you claim to not care about, you sure do talk a lot about. Anyway, she's in the kitchen." I rolled my eyes and pushed past him.

"Thanks. Where's Isabel?" I asked, looking around as I walked to the kitchen.

"Considering it's after eight, she's sleeping," he replied sarcastically. I rolled my eyes again but didn't reply.

Rosalie was sitting at the counter with a cup of coffee and reading a book.

"Hi," I said, helping myself to a Gatorade they always kept in stock.

We talked a little about her day and mine. Emmett came in shortly into the conversation and told us about the four detentions he had to give out today. He felt like 'the man' – his words.

"So how's Bella?" she finally asked.

"She's okay; a little overwhelmed," I lied, using Bella's words from yesterday.

"Those were some great gifts," Emmett mused. I ignored Emmett and continued talking to Rosalie.

"Anyway, I need… I don't know, help understanding her? I mean, we talk, but not really."

Rosalie looked at me as if she were trying to read my mind. Most likely trying to figure out how sincere I was being.

"Do you like her?" she asked, sounding more like a nosy mother than my sister-in-law.

"I wouldn't have her in my condo if I didn't."

"That's not what I meant. Do you _like_ her?" she asked again, her voice more assertive this time.

"Does it matter?" I retorted, avoiding the question. I didn't really want to discuss this with her; that's not why I was here.

"Yes. It does." Her eyes were wide, daring me to attempt to dodge the question again. I wanted to. Boy, did I want to, but I knew Rosalie. If she didn't get what she wanted, she wasn't going to give me what I wanted.

"I do…did…do," I answered uncertainly. There was no simple yes or no to this question. I sighed and continued. "She's smart, likes to read, funny in a corny type of way, pretty, but…" It was hard to explain.

"You don't trust her," she answered for me.

"You're right, but I don't mean it in a way that I'm going to lock up my valuables because she might pawn them kind of trust. I know she doesn't drink and I believe her when she says that she never did drugs, but... What if…what if she does back to prostitution because it's easier? What if she starts to think, again, that no one is on her side? I'm not going to consider my feelings for her just to stand by and watch her throw them away. I only just realized that I'm not mad anymore at what she did."

"Are you serious?" Rosalie scoffed. "Were you smoking something during your shift?" She looked at me disgustedly, clearly taking offense.

"No. God…how do I explain?" I said out loud, but to myself. "Okay, it's like this. You know how Bella did, or what she was going to do…"I trailed off. Not only did I not want to finish that thought, but Rosalie was beginning to look pale. As far as I knew, they still hadn't talked about it, yet, and Rose wasn't privy to Bella's side. "Anyway, Bella wanted her own place, somewhere she could feel at home, and I get that. I didn't exactly make her feel welcome. Now she's going to be working and making her own money legitimately. What if it gets too hard and she deludes herself into believing she'd make better and quicker money doing…_that?_ How do I let myself start having feelings for someone who might be flighty – leave when things get hard?"

"Did you add that last part because of what happened the last time she was in Forks?" Rosalie asked. I shrugged, not wanting to verbally confirm her suspicion. "Well, Bella is not like that," she said adamantly. "Let me tell you something about Bella. Things were never really easy for her, and I don't mean that she had some kind of horrible childhood. All the years that I've known her, I've been her only friend. She's like, socially awkward, I guess. In high school she wasn't into dating or parties or shopping. Plus, she was extremely close with her parents. How many high school kids would admit that?

Do you know what she did in her free time if she wasn't either painting or hanging out with me or her parents? She did volunteer work; no one forced her and it wasn't required. Who the hell does _that_ in high school? She wasn't bullied or anything, but people just stopped bothering with her.

It got a little better in college. She dated here and there, but nothing ever serious. She met some people who shared her love of art and drawing, but still, she preferred discussing Mongolian art history, or some shit like that, with her teachers than hang out in some guy's dorm. A lot of the underclassmen hated her, but in my opinion they were jealous of her talent. She was the epitome of dedication and passion.

I don't know what happened after I left her except what she told us, but I _know_ it had to be something horrible for her to feel that she couldn't come to me, or at least wait until I came back. My point is that I know Bella, and flighty she is not. If she ever becomes interested in you, take my word for it, you're damn lucky."

**XxX**

I didn't stay much longer after I spoke with Rosalie. I did ask her why she bailed on Bella a few weeks ago. She told me her reasons, but I thought it would be better if Bella heard it straight from the source than me.

Rosalie seemed drained after basically spilling her guts to me like I was her therapist so I decided to try and talk with Bella on my own. Rosalie did give me some sage advice when it comes to Bella.

She had given me a lot to think about – way more than I was actually ready for. She did make me realize that, yes, maybe I had some feelings for Bella, but Rose and I both knew it was something that had to be taken slowly. Besides, I didn't even know if Bella liked me like that anyway.

I unlocked my door, hoping to see Bella lounging around on the computer or watching television.

Nothing.

I went to my room and changed before trying again with Bella. If her door was still locked, then I would have to unlock it. I had to make sure she was okay.

"Bella?" I called out while knocking. No response. I knocked again, but still nothing. I tried to the knob and found that it turned.

"Bella, I'm coming in," I warned before entering. I opened it slowly, quietly, in case she was sleeping.

She wasn't. Bella sat at the head of the bed, her legs bent at the knees, staring right at me. She was eerily silent and unmoving. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't frightening. Not only could I see her eyes following me, but I could feel them.

I sat at the top of the bed with her, mimicking her position. I stayed quiet for a long time, actually afraid to speak. I had never been as spooked out as I was at the moment. Even her breaths seemed muted. I took the opportunity to survey the room as best I could with the lack of light. Everything seemed organized and neat, but I couldn't tell about much else. The only thing that had caught my eye was the iPhone sitting on the desk.

I didn't even know what I was doing sitting here. I only came in to see if she was okay – still breathing. Why was I even sitting here with her? A good twenty minutes had to have passed while I sat in the dark with Bella; the only faint light coming from the crescent moon outside.

"Do you ever think about dying?" she finally spoke, scaring the shit out of me and sending my heart into overdrive. Her voice was flat with no hint of what she could be feeling. When my heart finally calmed, I was able to better grasp what she was asking me. Frankly, it was cause enough to worry.

"No. Do you?" I asked slowly, cautiously.

"Yes." The same monotone voice.

"Your death or your parents' death?" I needed clarification.

"Both." I didn't like where this was going.

"Are you suicidal?" I know that I had ignored her, medically, before, but this was not something that I could just let go, especially at this point in our…what, friendship? If she was showing signs that she was suicidal I had to do something.

" I wish."

"What does that mean?" I asked, the alarm in my voice clearly evident.

"My parents were very anti-suicide. They thought it was one of the most selfish things a person can do, and I guess they had valid points to support their feelings. They always said that suicide was the easy way out; it was cheating and cheating was selfish. My mom would tell me that suicide didn't ease someone's worry and grief, but just passed it along for someone else to cry over. My dad said it was punishing those that were strong enough to carry the burden." She paused then. "They're probably rolling in their grave right now, seeing what their only child turned into." She was staring at a blank spot on the bedding as she talked.

"I'm not everyone's cup of tea," she said before finally looking at me. "I didn't have friends in school growing up, or even in college, except for Rose." She was telling me almost exactly what Rose had told me an hour earlier. "But I really did try in the beginning; I tried making friends. I think the cool points were stacked against me the moment I was born with a cop for a father and a teacher for a mom." She looked back down and began playing with a loose thread. I watched as she twirled the almost invisible string around the tip of her finger. "I had Rose and my parents, though, so I was okay." Her voice had lost the lack of emotion, fully taking on despair.

"I'm sorry about yesterday…in the car and when we got home," she apologized. "It's just…while we were at your parents' place there was so much going on that I didn't really stop and take stock of everything. Then the silence in the car forced me to pause and think." She stopped playing with the thread, smoothing it out on the sheet. "I've done nothing to honor the memory of my parents, but in that car ride? I knew I had finally done something to make them proud since they died – I made _other _people happy through my work. I had that feeling of accomplishment, and it surpassed anything I'd ever felt when I sold a piece for a good chunk of change." She stopped talking to swallow the lump in her throat that even I heard forming. "What I wouldn't give to have lunch with my mom again or go fishing with my dad one more time. I just want my mom and dad back, ya know?"

No, I didn't know. How do I sympathize with a person who lost both parents at the same time, parents she was extremely close to, when I have both parents that I probably don't talk to often enough? Simply put, I couldn't and I wasn't going to make a mockery out of Bella and pretend I could. All I could do was listen.

So I did. I sat with her for another two hours while she regaled some of her best holiday memories with her parents and Rosalie. It took awhile for her to finally smile, but when she did, it lit up the small space we shared on the bed. Her eyes glowed and seemed alive when she told me about the Christmas her father had to work the night shift. Instead of having him miss out, her and her mother, who I learned was named Renee, packed up sheets and pillows and had a sleepover in one of the cells at the station.

When I saw that it was nearing two in the morning, I decided that we needed to call it a night, but I still hadn't asked her about lunch tomorrow.

"Angela wants to know if you're free for lunch tomorrow…or today, rather? She's desperate for the help." She was hesitant, her eyes shifted wildly around the room. "I can reschedule if that's what you prefer," I offered.

"No, no, no," she quickly answered this time. "What time?"

Shit, I had actually forgotten to call Mrs. Cope.

"I'm not quite sure, actually. I'll call Mrs. Cope in the morning and find out."

"That's fine."

We said our good nights and I headed to the door. I couldn't speak for Bella, but I felt lighter after tonight. I had learned more about Bella than I had expected to, even though it was from brief glimpses into her past.

Before I walked out, I swiped her phone. I'd asked Rosalie for Bella's favorite albums.

**XxX**

When I called Mrs. Cope in the morning she told me that Angela couldn't make it to lunch because of an emergency at the bakery, which was why I was sitting at a diner getting ready to meet both her and Bella for dinner.

"Hi," an average looking girl with a bright smile greeted me. She sounded winded, most likely rushing to make our seven o'clock dinner meeting. "You must be Edward. My aunt told me to look for wild hair," she chuckled.

"That's me. Bella should be here soon."

I had offered to pick her up, but she said she wanted to walk – mentally prep herself on the way here.

No sooner had we ordered drinks, Bella walked up to the table.

"Hi," she greeted, looking between both Angela and me. "You must be Angela." She extended her hand to shake Angela's. I scooted over so she could sit down.

We ordered quickly to give us more time to talk.

"So tell me about your bakery experience," Angela asked Bella.

Bella looked at me nervously before answering. "Well, I don't have professional experience but I have some knowledge. I've made dozens of cakes and cookies, I'm okay with fondant and in my opinion, I have a pretty good pallet for different flavor combinations. I'm a quick learner, though, if that helps," she added quickly. She was fidgeting and just by her face, I could tell she thought she wasn't going to get it. She was definitely her own worst enemy.

"Alright," Angela said, nodding her head. If Bella was really paying attention, and not just worrying, she would realize that Angela looked pleased. "That's actually more than I was expecting. I can definitely work with that."

Conversation halted as the waitress placed our food down.

"My told aunt me that Edward said you lost your information and identification in a fire?"

Angela was too busy salting her fries to notice the absolutely anxious glance Bella gave me again.

"That's not, um…quite right," Bella clarified.

My head shot to hers in disbelief. What was she doing?

"Look," she continued uneasily. "There was no house fire. I was homeless so I just don't have them, but I'm working on getting them back. Actually, I'm working on getting my shit together in general," she mumbled.

I wasn't sure if Bella was brave for telling the truth, or dumb before laying everything out before she was given the chance to prove herself. I looked to Angela who was chewing a fry thoughtfully while studying Bella.

"Okay," Angela finally said, popping another fry in her mouth. "What's your legal name? I'll do a background check and if it comes up clean the job is yours."

That was fair. More than fair, really.

"Isabella Swan," Bella answered, causing Angela to choke on the fry in her mouth. She took long pulls of her soda.

"You're fucking shitting me, right?" Angela asked when she was able to breathe normally. She was staring wide-eyed at Bella while my eyes ping ponged between them. "_The_ Isabella Swan?"

She shrugged. "I guess. I don't know another one." Bella gave me a look, silently asking if Angela was all there. Hell if I knew.

"Isabella Swan, _the artist_?" Angela asked again. Not only did I stiffen, but I could feel Bella freeze right next to me. "Oh, my God, it is you!" Angela exclaimed. She dug her phone out of her purse and furiously began texting someone. "I can't believe this," she mumbled.

"Wait! What's going on? How do you know me?" Bella sounded frantic, like she was ready to run from someone.

Honestly, I was a little worried myself. Angela obviously knew who Bella was, and I guess it shouldn't be too shocking, but her reaction to Bella was still over the top. I could see the tension on Bella's face – she definitely wanted to flee, but there really wasn't a reason to. Bella wasn't a criminal…that I knew of.

"My boyfriend is a huge fan of yours. He actually went to college with you, but I think he was a year younger," she said by way of explanation. Bella looked a little calmer, but still not completely relaxed.

"His name is Ben. Ben Cheney? He modeled for you once?"

"Um…is he the one with the goat tattoo on his bicep?" Bella asked as her eyes squinted in thought.

"Yes!" Angela confirmed excitedly. "You let him keep it after it was graded." Angela began blushing. "He gave it to me. It really is beautiful."

I was confused looking at Angela. The mention of this portrait turned her whole face red, and apparently dried her throat based on the way she was going at the soda.

"I remember him," Bella giggled. "He was the worst nude model ever. He kept apologizing for his boner. He was fidgety and man did he blush. He was a cool guy, though."

It was my turn to choke. The soda definitely went down the wrong pipe. Bella had seen this guy's pecker? Not even a glimpse, but full on stared at his junk. I knew that it shouldn't bother me because of Bella's past…indiscretions, but this was different somehow. Maybe it was because it was during a time when Bella was whole, not as broken. There had to be some kind of intimacy, right?

I bet I was bigger, though.

"He is great," Angela confirmed, her voice taken on a slightly morose tone. There was something, definitely something, to their relationship.

They continued to make small talk about Bella's time in school. I learned even more about her, again through stories and glimpses into her past.

Overall, the meeting went exceedingly well. Angela told Bella that if her background check cleared and Bella was indeed hired, she would pay her cash until she was able obtain everything she needed, and once that was done Bella would begin getting paid by check. Angela was being extremely generous.

**XxX**

Angela had called three days later, telling Bella the job was hers if she still wanted it. Saying Bella was excited would have been an understatement.

"Holy shit, Edward!" she screeched while jumping up and down. "I got it!" She continued jumping, reminding me of Alice when she was too excited to be contained.

"Thank you so much," she continued. She hugged me too tightly, this time reminding me of one of Emmett's tight grips.

In a move that I want to believe was done unconsciously, she grabbed my face, pressing her lips hard to mine. I could blame her excitement for that move, but what was to blame for pressing my lips back?

The kiss ended quickly, but still left my lips feeling numb. If that was a good or bad sign, I wasn't sure.

"I'm so sorry," she apologized, worriedly. "I didn't…" She began waving her hands in front of my face as she looked on with wide frightened eyes. "I was just really excited."

I waved off her apology. "It's no big deal," I lied, trying to appease her. I didn't want her to feel embarrassed, but it was a big deal – at least to me it was.

And it continued to be a big deal the following weeks when she came home smelling like marshmallow and chocolate.

The worst, though, was when I picked her up for lunch and walked in on her licking purple icing off her finger. That was the first night I dreamt of Bella.

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	21. Chapter 21

**AN: Chapter beta'd by le wonderful SerineinNC. I got around to most reviews, but not all so I apologize if I didn't respond. If I've never responded to a review you left, let me know cuz that's messed up of me. Also a quick shout out to a reviewer that always reviews but I can never respond b/c she's not signed in. Jennifer, thanks for all the reviews.**

**Important AN at the bottom so please read.**

**All things Twilight belong to SM.**

I was an employed woman for over a month now. It felt good to finally be a productive member of society.

The first few days were odd. Edward would see me off when he could and I felt like a child going to school for the first time. It was sort of nice, though, so I never said anything.

Angela's shop was cute – small and intimate. Display cases took up most of the bakery, with all but one housing various cakes, cookies, pies, pastries, and bread. One single case, which was more of a cooler type held pre-arranged flower bouquets. When I asked Angela about the flowers, she shrugged and said it was like one stop shopping. I guess it made sense.

There were only two tables in the shop that only seated up to three people, but there was standing room along the windows, which more patrons gravitated to mostly, anyway. The bakery was located on one of the older looking streets in Seattle. The street itself looked like it belonged in the historic part of Boston or Philadelphia more than Seattle. It was easy to see why people preferred the view from the windows to the inside of the bakery.

The bakery itself didn't open for business until eleven, but Angela came in at seven every morning to prepare for the day and had me come in at eight. Everything, except the fresh loaves of bread she sold, was baked and sold the same day. When allowed, certain things were prepped the day before.

Angela was nothing short of a pastry queen. On my first day she showed me her portfolio of cakes that she custom made and ones she made just as test runs to possibly offer in the future. Her cakes were amazing to say the least. They ranged from traditionally layered cakes to topsy turvy ones to cakes that were shaped like different objects. Me being the person that I am, I couldn't help but analyze every stroke of color that painted the cakes. While most of decorations on the cakes were done with fondant and gum paste, there were quite a few cakes that she clearly decorated using a paint brush. I could tell that she had a very steady hand, but that wasn't very surprising in her line of work.

In my month of employment, I learned a lot more of the business aspect of it than I thought I would. While I did help a lot with the baking and decorating part, she also showed me how she kept the books and closed up shop at the end of every night. It was fairly easy, but tedious.

The best part, though, was when she asked me if I would mind painting a display for Valentine's Day on the window. She didn't want anything too big or fancy so it wouldn't hinder the inside or outside view. I was ecstatic and agreed before she even finished talking. She seemed hesitant to ask me, like I was actually going to say no. After it was done – I painted cupids sitting on clouds – she admitted to me that she was embarrassed to ask. "It's like asking Picasso to paint a house."

Every Valentine's Day, Angela told me, she made a huge sugar cookie, about the diameter of a basketball, that she iced white. If people pre-ordered they could request personal messages or images to be drawn with edible markers and paints. So far, we had eleven pre-orders, including the three I ordered for Rose and Emmett, Jasper and Alice, and Esme and Carlise.

It was Valentine's Day and I was just finishing up the last cookie when Angela called me to her office. True to her word, the painting of a very naked Ben hung directly across from her desk. It was a little uncomfortable looking at it now. For one, it was like the naked man's eyes were following me, and now since I knew his girlfriend, I felt like I was walking in on their alone time. It was all so very weird.

"What's up?" I asked nervously. I didn't think I had done anything wrong, but it never seemed positive when someone says they need to talk to you.

"You don't have any plans tonight, right?" she asked me from behind her desk. I shook my head no and tried to forget about the naked Ben staring a hole through my head.

"Cool. Would you mind closing up for me tonight? I wanted to leave a few hours early to get ready for my date tonight with Ben."

I was hesitant to agree. Not only had I only been working here for a short period of time, but I also didn't want to mess anything up that Angela would have to fix when she came back the next day. She worked hard enough to keep this place going and the last thing I wanted to do was add to her plate. Plus, how could she even trust someone like me with a sketchy past?

"I don't know, Ang. Do you really want to trust me with something so important like counting out the register or putting it in the safe?" I wanted to remind her of some of the more important routines of closing up shop.

"Are you a thief?" she asked seriously. "Do I need to worry about you stealing my money?"

"No," I assured her quickly. "You can trust me, I hope you know, but…" I trailed off not really knowing how to express what I was thinking.

"Sit down for a second," she instructed and I did. "Besides your obvious knowledge and your celebrity," she rolled her eyes and smirked at the word 'celebrity', "do you want to know why I hired you?"

"Because Edward referred me to your aunt?" I guessed.

"No," she said, smirking before suddenly becoming serious. "I hired you because I see a lot of me in you. I don't go around advertising this, but I was actually a drug addict for close to four years before I decided to get clean."

"No," I gasped in surprise. Angela was the epitome, or so I thought, of a straight-laced business woman.

"Yeah. It was bad, really bad. I started taking over the counter stuff to help me stay awake. I started culinary school and working at the same time; there were never enough hours in the day and sleep wasn't an option for me. Someone I worked with at the diner offered me blow – saying that it would give me the extra oomph that I needed - and it did. After a while, though, I couldn't function without it. Then it got to where it wasn't doing anything for me anymore. I guess my body became immune? I don' know. Anyway, someone else told me about heroin."

I looked at her curiously. "Heroin? Doesn't that, like, slow you down? It would be counterproductive in your case."

"Well, yeah, I know that _now_. It wasn't like I was reading up on drugs and what they did. I was such a sheep. Back then, all I knew was that I was supposed to inject it instead of snorting it. Anyway, I tried it and it only took that one time to get me hooked. I was strung out in a bad way." She paused. " You know that abandoned warehouse downtown?" she asked. I had to force myself from rolling me eyes. Not at her, but at the irony of the question. I knew it, alright.

"Yeah," I finally answered, unable to meet her eyes.

"Yeah," she repeated sadly, maybe even knowingly. If she knew the warehouse then she knew of the homeless population that called that place home. "Those people that you see waiting around to score? I was one of those people. I never became a strawberry because I found other ways to fund my problem." Such a strong look of regret crossed her features.

"When did you finally become clean?" I asked. I was in complete awe of this woman in front of me, and even slightly ashamed. I thought that I was going to have a tough road ahead of me, but I knew that it was nothing compared to what she probably went through to get here today. More often than not, I would see the people who supposedly tried to kick the habit reemerge in the warehouse only a few months later, looking just as bad, if not worse, than before.

"_I_ didn't choose to in the beginning. Ben did." Angela had a far off look in her eyes before she focused them back on me. "He was with me before my problem and stayed with me during and after. He became an enabler of sorts. It wasn't until I stole and sold his car that he had had enough. He pressed charges against me, but spoke during my sentencing. He spoke on my behalf, told the judge that the drugs were responsible for my actions and recommended rehab. I swear he was better than my court appointed attorney. He came with my school records, my employment schedule to show them I never missed work before starting drugs. He was a god send. I did six months in jail to be followed by a stint in rehab. I stayed in rehab, not a halfway house but rehab, for almost a year so you can imagine how deep I was in it. Throughout it all, though, Ben was there if I needed a hand to hold or a kick in the ass."

Tears began to slowly trickle down her cheeks. I knew how hard it was to relive something so difficult. She swiped them away aggressively, not wanting to show any weakness. I knew that feeling.

"The reason I'm telling you this, Bella, is because that uncertainty you have in yourself, I had in me. It's not going to go away today or tomorrow, but it will eventually if you allow it to. Trust me when I say this - it's not something you can do on your own. Take the positive, healthy opportunities that are knocking on your door. So take this opportunity I'm giving to you, Bella. If nothing else, maybe it'll help give you a confidence boost."

I was touched by her words and confidence in me. Words that I also had heard recently from others. How was it possible that all these people were telling me the same thing? It was like I was the only one who didn't know what was good for me. But at the same time, though, it felt good to know that all these people were in my corner, rooting for my when I thought I was already down for the count.

"Thanks, Ang. I'd be happy to do this for you," I finally agreed, my throat thick with emotions.

"Thank _you_," she said smiling. "There is one more thing before we get back to work." I nodded for her to go on. "You've been here for a month and you haven't given me a photo ID or a copy of your social." My heart began racing when I realized where she was going with this. I guess my face matched my anxious feeling, because she was quick to continue. "I'm not saying I want it tomorrow, and I'm not looking for an explanation as to why you haven't given it to me yet, but I do need it sooner than later."

I felt bad for dragging my feet about going back to Forks. It wasn't something I was looking forward to and I never brought it up. I was content to let it hang over me until this moment came – and I knew it was coming.

"I'll, uh…work on it. I'll need a few days off, though."

She smiled warmly. "Anything you need."

We both went back into the kitchen to finish up any last minute details that had to get done before we opened for the day.

Angela warned me that it was going to be busy the first half of the day with both pre-orders and regular walk-ins, but it would calm down around four-ish, which was when she planned on leaving. She wasn't kidding! There wasn't even a five minute lull between customers to even allow for a short sit down. If I wasn't running to the back for someone's order, I was grabbing this and that from behind the counter for another customer. The cooler of flowers that we had, which contained about forty bouquets, sold out in the first two hours of business.

Alice had dropped by to pick up the cookies that I had ordered for the three couples. Our plan was to have lunch, but when we arranged it I wasn't aware of how busy the store would be. With a promise to get together soon, she left with the three wrapped and boxed cookies.

At 3:30, when we saw signs of things slowing down, Angela told me to take my lunch break before she left. I grabbed my lunch and ate in the kitchen, wanting to stay close in case business picked up while I was away. Unfortunately it did, and I threw the rest down my throat to get back to Angela.

She ended up leaving closer to five, which was later than she had anticipated. Before leaving, she thanked me and told me, again, that I needed to have faith in myself.

The doors for the bakery close at 6:30 and I was hoping that no last minute customers came in. My feet were killing me and I was starving. By far this was the toughest day here. At 6:20, I heard the bell above the door chime and I wanted to throttle whoever walked through the door. I plastered on my best forced smile to greet the inconsiderate jerk. I turned from the display case I was wiping down and was pleasantly surprised to see Edward. However, when I took in his nicely dressed appearance, I knew he had to be on his way to a date. If I needed anymore confirmation that my assessment was right, the wild flowers he was holding in his hand was it.

My smile felt extra forced now.

"Hi," he greeted. "How'd your day go? I spoke to Alice and she said it was like a zoo in here today." His smile was genuine and he seemed like he really wanted to know. I felt bad for being irritated about his date.

"She exaggerated about the zoo part, but yeah, it was pretty busy. It's good for Angela, though," I said, shrugging. "So you look nice. Got a date?" I pointed to the flowers, trying to show him the same interest his was showing me.

"Yup." Because he sounded excited, I was trying to be happy for him. "I thought I might show my patronage to this fine establishment," he joked. "Anything Valentine's related left?"

"Um…" I looked down at the case he was scoping out. "Some heart shaped cookies are the only things we have left, I think." I continued looking down to see what else we had to offer.

"Well what do you suggest?" he asked.

"We have one more giant cookie that I could decorate for you quickly, but can I suggest something that isn't Valentine's related?"

"Sure."

"Okay, well, Angela has these croissants that I absolutely love. She glazes them with honey and sprinkles them with slivered almonds. Uhhh," I moaned, "they're so good. I try to put one aside every day."

Edward was staring at me wide-eyed and swallowed hard. "Almonds?" he questioned cautiously. I nodded, wondering what the big deal was. He didn't have a peanut allergy since he had peanut butter in his cupboard. He recovered quickly. "That sounds good. I'll take whatever you have left."

I boxed the three we had. I was tempted to take one, but surprisingly, I wanted Edward to enjoy them with his date as much as I do. I also gave him the rest of the heart shaped cookies that we had.

"It's on the house," I said, handing him a box.

"Are you sure? I don't want you getting in trouble or anything."

I dismissed his question. "Yeah, it's okay. I probably would have taken the croissants home with me tonight anyway and Ang would have eaten the cookies tomorrow." Because I'm a glutton for punishment, I kept on going. "Those are really pretty flowers; your date will love them."

His beaming smile made my stomach sink. "Yeah? You don't think I should have gone with roses instead?"

I shrugged. "Roses would have been good, too. Personally, I like those. I don't know much about flowers, though. Those are colorful and different, my type of arrangement."

"Thanks," he smiled again. "So where's Angela?"

"She left early and asked me to close for her," I explained, proudly. I knew that Edward didn't realize how big of a deal it was, but it still made me happy to fill someone in. "We're actually closed now, so I gotta start cleaning up."

"I have some time to kill so do you mind if I just hang around here? I'll help you close up."

"If you want, but I don't want you ruining your clothes, because we both know how expensive they are to clean," I teased. He sighed loudly, but was in a pleasant enough mood to take a joke. He waved me off the same way I had done minutes before. I asked him if he would mind wiping down the tables and counters while I counted out the drawer.

With Edward's help I was able to get everything done a lot quicker. I was so wrapped up in recording the numbers for the day that I hadn't realized that a whole hour had gone by, surely making Edward late for his date. I hurriedly grabbed my coat and rushed to the front of the store where Edward was waiting patiently."

"Fuck, Edward, I'm so sorry. You should have come back to the office so I could let you out. Now you're late. Please tell her I'm so sorry."

"Bella," he chuckled. "Calm down. I'm not late for my date. I was early, actually."

I stopped fumbling with the keys to look at Edward's outstretched hand holding the beautiful wildflowers. He looked at me then down to the flowers then back at me.

"Are those…for _me_?" I asked, dubiously.

He nodded slowly. "Yes. The original plan was to have a small dinner at this bistro that I like, but I got called in to cover a shift and I have to be at the hospital in about an hour so I figured we could eat this," he held up the bag, "and pretend we're having a fancy dinner."

I was at an utter loss of words. Though it wasn't that romantic or heart clenching, the thought was and it was enough for me. Besides, just the fact that he wanted to take _me_ out was insane in itself. I had come to terms that I had a crush on him a while ago, but him wanting to spend time with me caused my head to spin.

I hadn't even addressed the kiss with him again since it happened. Granted, he waved it off like it was nothing, but it was something to me. I honestly didn't mean to do it. It really was a spur of the moment act, but the second that I felt his lips I knew it was a moment that I would never forget. It was like…like taking a picture with a celebrity. It doesn't really mean anything to them. The movie star wasn't going to become your best friend or realize they couldn't live without you, but even still it was special to the fan. It was a moment that was theirs and that no one could take away. That's how the kiss was for me – it was my something special that was mine.

I grabbed the flowers, took a quick sniff, and led us over to a table.

"These flowers really are beautiful. I love how they're all different…yet piece together perfectly."

"I thought you might like them. You didn't seem like a rose type of person," Edward explained.

"Well, you're the first person to ever get me flowers, besides my parents," I explained while he grabbed the croissants out of the bag.

"Seriously?" He sounded surprised.

"Yup. I've had a total of two dates in my life, not including this one, and they were both horrible," I admitted. "This is the most honest date I've ever had."

He laughed and it was the first time I noticed the little crinkles around his eyes when he did.

"That's really saying something if this tops your list of dates." He shook his head in amusement and took a bite of the sweet bread. "This is freaking delicious," he commented with a full mouth.

"Right?!" I nodded along enthusiastically.

"So what made those two dates so bad?"

"It was like the first guy I went out with took notes and then shared them because the second date I went on, with a different person mind you, was almost identical to the first one." Now that I thought about it, the two dates probably played a large role in why I never did date again. "The first guy I went out with, I think his name was Austin, tried to play to my art side. He took me to this fancy restaurant that he couldn't afford, then to an 'underground' art gallery." I could laugh about it in retrospect, but at the time I was so annoyed. "Anyway, he couldn't even get us in to the gallery. I had to give them _my_ name. It wasn't even underground, it was just smaller and didn't feature big names. So we're walking around the place and he's trying to impress me – telling me what the artist was trying to convey using the paints on the four walls of the canvas. I listened because, frankly, I felt bad that this guy just spent about two hundred bucks on dinner."

"It sounds like he was trying," Edward cut in.

"No, there's a difference between trying and being fake, hoping to get laid. All his plans went to hell anyway when he asked me who my favorite artist was."

"Huh? I don't get how that would ruin your date. Who's your favorite artist?" he asked, confused as to why that would matter on a date.

"Guess."

Edward answered exactly how I thought he would. "Michelangelo? Picasso? Da Vinci? Monet? Matisse?"

I shook my head at all of them. "Nope. Norman Rockwell," I answered proudly.

"The calendar guy?" he asked, clearly surprised.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, him, and that's exactly the reaction the guy had. He's more than 'the calendar guy'."

"I'm not judging or anything, but why him?"

"Why not?" I shrugged. "Here's the thing; everyone sees a painting and immediately tries to figure out what it means, like if they figure it out it'll answer the rest of the world's questions. Sometimes, what you see if what you get and that's what I like about Rockwell. He didn't paint a black stripe and intend for people to ponder the meaning of it every time it was seen. He depicted everyday life. You could look at his work and didn't have to guess what he was trying to say, because the picture clearly told you."

"So you're telling me you're not one of those people who analyze every piece of art?" he asked skeptically.

"Oh, no, I do, but to me it's like religion and politics – forbidden topics. I have my own ideas about painting and what they may mean, but they're mine and I don't shove them in people's faces. It's like…people try to tell you what scriptures in the Bible mean, but they weren't there when it was written so who are you to tell me what I'm supposed to get out of it? Same thing with art. I wasn't there when the Mona Lisa was painted so I can only speculate. If you ask me what I think, I'll tell you, but I don't just flap my gums to hear myself speak."

"Makes sense, I guess. How did Rockwell ruin the date?"

"It wasn't like _that's_ what ruined the date; it was just the cherry. He told me that my choice was completely unimaginative for someone who was such an art snob. Do you want to know what that asshole's major was?" I asked rhetorically. "Math! A math major was telling me I was unimaginative. Because figuring out the 'a' plus 'b' equals 'c' is so freaking creative."

Edward was openly laughing now and I soon joined him. Like I said, I could laugh about it now.

"That is pretty funny," he conceded.

"So the second was kinda the same and after that I didn't bother anymore. I wish I would have, though," I mumbled.

There was an awkward silence and I assumed that I had made Edward uncomfortable.

I cleared my throat and changed topics. "So um…I think I'm going to finally make that trip to Forks soon."

Edward stopped wiping his hands on the napkin to look up at me.

"Yeah?" he asked seriously, all traces of awkwardness gone. I nodded. "Are you going alone?"

I shrugged. "Originally, I thought Rosalie would come with me, but I'm not sure where we stand. We haven't talked since she asked me to be her maid of honor." This time around our stretch of silence didn't have to do with her being mad at me, but life getting in the way, not to mention that according to Emmett, she was calling every family member she had to tell them about her engagement. We still hadn't broached the subject and I wouldn't ask her to come with me to Forks before we did. It wasn't a fair request for either of us, but asking would also be like avoiding the elephant in the room.

"I'm scared," I admitted, looking right at Edward. "Terrified, actually."

He put his hand on top of mine, stopping me as I mercilessly shredded a napkin. I brought my eyes up to meet his.

"I told you before that you weren't alone," he said. "Not in this situation, either. If you want me to go with you, just say the word and I'm there."

I flipped my hand over and gave his hand a squeeze. Another stolen moment that I could keep for myself. "Thanks."

"So um…" I needed to change the topic, again, since this was possibly more uncomfortable. "What made you choose little ol' me for a Valentine's date," I continued sweetly, batting my lashes playfully.

He rolled his eyes dramatically, but played along. "Don't flatter yourself, honey. I'm doing you a favor," he laughed.

"You're such an ass," I laughed.

"Really, though," he continued seriously," I'm proud of you. You work hard every day without complaint and you seem happier. That's a big leap, no?" I nodded. "Plus, you come home everyday smelling like marshmallow. What guy could resist that?" He smirked and I groaned.

"Ugh. I hated marshmallow before I even started here and now I loathe it. Angela tries a new marshmallow recipe everyday because it's Ben's favorite. I feel like it's seeping out of my pores and I don't even taste test so it's not like I touch the stuff."

He laughed lightly before changing the subject once again.

"I was going to ask you. Since you haven't touched your gift cards yet, if you wanted to go shopping on Sunday since we're both off? You could get stuff for your room, or whatever," he offered.

"Really? That'd be great! I don't know what I'd get, though." The thought of going shopping with so much money was thrilling. "Do you want to hit up all the stores or just Wal-Mart?" I was already eager and planning out the trip in my head.

"Edward?" I asked after he hadn't responded after a few seconds. "Are you okay? What's wrong?" His face looked flush and he was looking everywhere but at me.

"Um…" he cleared his throat. "I think we should leave Victoria's Secret alone. Maybe you can go with Rose and Alice," he replied uncomfortably.

Ahh…

"Whatever you feel most comfortable with," I assured him. "It doesn't matter to me." It didn't really. Modesty was the least of my concerns. Besides, it wasn't like I was going to model underwear for him.

"Well, we'll see what happens." He looked at his watch. "I have to get going if I'm going to be on time." I thought he was leaving because I had made him uncomfortable until I looked at the clock. It felt like we were only sitting there for minutes. He started clearing the table of the trash and dumped it into the bin I had already emptied.

I put my coat on and looked around the shop to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything. I set the alarm and rushed us out of the shop. We stood there awkwardly for a second.

"So thanks for that," I said, pointing behind me at the bakery. "Not only was that really great of you, but it was the best date I have ever had," I told him honestly.

"No, thank you for agreeing – I had fun. I have to get going but I'll see you at home tomorrow. You have your keys, right?" he asked. I rolled my eyes and pulled them out of my pocket to show him. He asked this every day. He had made me a copy when I first began working. "Good. I'll see you at home," he repeated.

He took one step closer and began leaning his body towards mine. My pulse began to race with the thought that he was leaning in for a kiss. Maybe he did like that small kiss we shared a month ago, but was waiting for the right time.

I tried not to let my disappointment show when he placed a light kiss to my forehead. With a shoulder squeeze and warm smile he walked away, leaving me staring at his retreating form.

**AN: So we're getting there slowly but surely, right?**

**OK, so I'm going to be honest here. Fandom for the Homeless isn't doing so well, which is a real shame. I'm not saying this b/c I'm biased, but this is a great cause. If you're a writer, think about contributing. Or if you're good friends with an author ask them to think about contributing. If you're a reader, it only takes $5 to donate and you get a choice b/w two different ones. I'm obviously contributing. Originally, I was going to do a Bella/Jane outtake, but decided to write out Edward's dream from the end of chapter 20. Maybe that'll entice more people to donate? Think about it.**

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	22. Chapter 22

**AN: Sorry for a long wait; there really is no good excuse. A VERY BIG THANK YOU to my beta, SerineinNC, for having to work unnecessarily harder since I sent this to her without looking at it first. She's an awesome gal.**

**Let's get on with it. All things Twilight belong to SM**

As I climbed up the stairs to Rosalie's apartment my nerves began getting the better of me. My palms were sweaty and my stomach felt queasy. Not only was this only the second time I've been here, but we were finally going to talk about the few things I told her about my past. My trip to Forks was next weekend and I still really wanted her to go with me, but I knew we had to clear the air first. I was surprised that she so willingly agreed to meet me so we could talk.

I softly knocked on the door three times. I didn't know if Isabel would be napping or not, and if she was, I didn't want to wake her. I could have called ahead, but I was still getting used to having a phone and more often than not I forgot I had one. It wasn't until I heard it ring did I remember that I was an owner of an iPhone.

"Hi," Rose said, greeting me at the door. Her smile was forced and I could see that she was just as nervous as I was. She stepped aside so I could pass. Even though Rosalie was still my absolute best friend, I didn't feel comfortable enough to go far inside her home. Instead, I waited for her when I was a good distance away so she could shut the door.

I followed her into the kitchen where she already had two cups of coffee waiting. It was these small gestures from her that reminded me how well she really knew me.

"Where's Isabel?" I asked after taking a sip of the lukewarm coffee.

"She's in her room. There's a Dora marathon, plus she has the iPad with her; she should be distracted long enough for us to talk," Rosalie explained.

After a few quiet, and slightly awkward, sips from the both of us I decided that this conversation had been stalled long enough.

"So I'm just going to start," I warned Rose. With a gulp that looked deep enough to hurt, she nodded. "I didn't start prostituting right away," I began. "It was just a means to an end. That night with Eric should have never happened; I realized that the same night. I convinced myself that everything was going to work despite this gut feeling that I had. I _needed_ it to work out. I knew it would cost me Edward's friendship, maybe everyone's, but it was something I thought I needed to finally… I don't know, gain stability?"

She looked at me bewilderedly.

"I know _now_ how stupid that sounds, but it made sense back then." She put her hand up to stop me.

"I really don't want an explanation or details," she said. "And I don't know what you thought, but I wasn't mad…or disgusted…at you." She paused, going over the words in her head. "Months after you left, Emmett finally convinced me to talk to someone – a professional. It helped a lot. She helped me with the guilt and made me realize that I was also grieving. I was grieving not only your parents, but you, too." She paused again and took another sip of coffee. It was a nervous habit she always had – keeping her hands occupied. "And when you tried to tell me about it before, it was like everything came crashing back down on me again. It was like I was drowning and forgot how to swim. I just…couldn't do it. I had to get out of there." There were unshed tears glistening in her eyes. I hated that I was the reason for them, despite what she may or may not claim. "I'm sorry I ignored you for so long after you tried to speak to me, but I wasn't in a good place and I needed to be before we tried again. When I found out you were going to Forks, I realized that I had to be strong for you. I can't fail you like I did before."

A guilt that had consumed me since I was reunited with Rosalie has slowly been taken over by anger; an anger so all over the place that it couldn't be directed at just one person or thing. I was angry at myself for causing Rose to feel anything that can be deemed negative and angry at Rosalie for still feeling guilty when I told her she had nothing to feel guilty about. I was angry at my parents for leaving me; angry that I wasn't a stronger person. And, I was angry that this is my life now.

"I wish you wouldn't feel like that," I chided Rosalie. I rubbed my face hard, trying to keep calm. I hated when people cried, especially those that were close to me. I couldn't handle tears; I couldn't handle Rosalie's tears. "We both made mistakes, some more than others, but we can't do anything about them now. Don't beat yourself up over me or the thought that you failed me. _I_ failed me, not you."

A slow smirk appeared on her face. "That's some sound advice. Too bad you don't practice what you preach." I rolled my eyes playfully, knowing she wasn't trying to be malicious – just a smartass.

"So are we okay?" I asked. She and I never let our issues come between our friendship before and I was hoping that was still the case now.

"Yeah, we're good," she confirmed. "But…hold on." She got up from her seat, leaving the kitchen only to come back a minute later. In her hands she carried a fairly big plastic container. She removed the lid and quickly retrieved something out of it. She handed me a legal sized white envelope before closing the lid again.

My eyes widened when I saw all the papers that I thought I needed to go to Forks to get.

"You had these the whole time?" I wasn't mad, but curious.

"Yeah," she answered slowly. "After I realized you were gone, I grabbed everything that belonged to you. I have photo albums, CD's, old clothes, books. I took it all."

I stared in amazement at everything I thought was long gone – my Social Security card, birth certificate, expired license, and even my old health insurance card.

"Everything else is at the house, though. The only thing I have here is that," she pointed to the stuff in my hands, "and some photo albums."

"Why do you even have this and how come you didn't tell me about it sooner?" I asked, again not angrily.

"I kept the important stuff on me…just in case," she said. At the sound of the tightness in her voice I looked up from the horrible picture on my license. "I think Emmett thought that I was delusional or something. I knew it was a possibility that you could…you know…be dead. What kind of friend would I be, though, if I assumed the worse and didn't hold on to faith? And as to why I didn't tell you, I wasn't sure if I should or not. You caught me off guard when you said that you were going to Forks. When you said _why _you were going, I considered telling you then, but then I thought if you knew that I had them you wouldn't go at all. I was back and forth, not knowing whether to say anything. After talking to Carmen, my therapist, she convinced me that not telling you I had this stuff wasn't fair to you…so there you go. I just hope that you still make the trip; it'll be good for you."

It was strange looking back on everything that basically told everyone who I was. I felt like I was looking back at the old me; the one I didn't know very well anymore. Even the horrible license photo still looked better than I did months ago. Everything was the same as I remembered but it didn't feel right. The Social Security number that was unquestionably mine felt like it belonged to a woman that may never be found. Despite the feeling of improbability of getting back to the girl in the photo staring back at me, I knew that I was ready to try. I promised myself that I was going to try.

"I'm still going," I assured Rosalie. "Maybe it'll be more enjoyable now that I won't have to go rummaging through papers," I said and shrugged.

Rosalie beamed at me. "I'm going with you, you know that, right?"

"Of course," I smiled. "I'm thinking about asking Edward to come along, too. Do you think that's a good idea?" The thought of him coming along was appealing, but still frightening at the same time. What if I couldn't handle going home? He would be there to witness a panic attack or some kind of hallucination.

"Do you like him? Like as a boyfriend?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

I shrugged, but didn't deny it. We both knew she would know if I was lying or not.

"I guess, but it doesn't really matter. We only recently became friends, which is a shocker because he didn't like me at all in the beginning. Besides, if you were a guy would you want to date a former prostitute?" Her silence was answer enough. "Exactly. The only guy that would ever date me would be someone who knows nothing about me."

"Can I ask you a personal question?" she asked, her voice just above a whisper.

"Sure," I answered, not understanding her sudden shyness.

"How many people have you been with while…you know…?"

I was actually waiting for this question to be brought up, but I thought it might be Edward who asked.

"Eighteen guys and four girls," I spewed off easily like she was asking for my name. They were just figures I could never forget.

"You serviced girls?" she asked, her voice a mix of disgust, amusement, and disbelief.

"I serviced whoever had the money."

The first time I was ever approached by a female I was little apprehensive. I had no idea how to have sex with a girl nor did I ever have the desire to learn. It was beyond awkward to even think about. The only thought that made it seem doable was that she would be less demanding – nicer – than my average male client.

I was wrong.

The only thing nice about her was the smoothness of her skin and that she actually paid for a motel room. She was a lipstick lesbian and a complete bitch who I, in retrospect, undercharged. She made me act like I was her actual lover.

Before doing anything sexual, she made me shower. This really, was probably needed. She instructed me that, after I was showered, I was to come in nothing but the towel wrapped around my body. Coming out of the shower, I found her naked and laying the bed, propped up by her elbows.

She told me to remove the towel and crawl to her. Once I was on the bed, she had me fondle her while kissing up and down her neck. It was weird, but not horrible. It wasn't until a few minutes into it where she seemed to turn into some sexual deviant. Forcefully, she shoved my face between her legs, holding it down and telling me where to lick or bite. She latched on and pulled my hair violently, causing me to detach myself from her. Every time that happened, she would shove my face back between her legs. It was degrading and embarrassing, but it was money.

"I guess that doesn't seem like too many people," Rosalie said, her face comically awkward.

"Saying that you slept with twenty two people in a little over a year doesn't do much for the soul, but I guess it's not as bad as others out there. Jane slept with a lot of people," I mused. "I think she broke the hundred mark." It was the first time I had spontaneously mentioned Jane out loud.

"Who's Jane?" Rose asked. I forgot that I hadn't told Rosalie about her.

"I met her when I came to Seattle. She was about ten years older than me, but took me under her wing, so to speak. She taught me how to survive; she became my friend."

"What happened to her?"

"She had AIDS. Remember how bad winter was last year?" Rosalie nodded. It was hard to believe it only happened a year ago. It felt like lifetime. "Well, her immune system was finally failing her; she just couldn't keep up with the weather, not to mention the hunger we fought daily…or her drug addiction. Last winter she caught what she thought was just the flu, but I think it was pneumonia. When she was strong enough to walk, she would find someone's house to crash at for the warmth, thinking rest, heat, and a little food would be all she needed to kick whatever she had. Nothing was working, though. Her coughing fits got so bad that eventually there would be specks of blood on the ground where she coughed. I wasn't always with her, but tried to stick around as much as I could. It's like one night she just knew. She knew that it was going to be her last." I could remember all of this like it was yesterday. And just like every time, it not only broke my heart, but it made me feel like a murderer. "She asked me to take her to the firehouse," I chuckled sadly, remembering the confusion I felt at the request. I had no idea what she could possibly need at a firehouse.

"Anyway, I basically dragged her body to the nearest firehouse. When we got there she asked me to just sit with her for awhile…_right in front of the garage doors. _If there were a fire, we would have been goners. I lowered her to the floor and sat down her with. Out of nowhere she began asking me weird questions about everything I ever learned from her. I hadn't even begun answering when I realized why she was asking. I sat her on my lap. At that point she was such a small thing she weighed nothing, and began telling her everything she taught me – the safest areas during the day and night, the dirty cops to watch out for, "honest" pimps, and to always trust your first instincts. I recited everything to her like a song I heard a million times. Before she told me to leave, she said she loved me and to always protect myself because no one else was going to do it for me. I kissed her and then placed her against the outside of the concrete building. I wasn't ten feet away before I looked back. She already looked dead. I didn't go far, though; just a few more feet and just watched. Eventually a fireman found her. He checked for a pulse but I saw the look on his face. There wasn't one."

My throat was tight and I knew that there was no way to fight the tears. The whole time I recounted that night to Rosalie, I kept my eyes averted, unable to look, worried I'd find judgment or disappointment. Her sniffling was what made me look. She was freely crying, her nose red from swiping at it.

"I purposely got drunk that night; something else Jane had told me – get intoxicated in public so you can spend a night in the drunk tank, or in other words, free shelter that was moderately safe. I just couldn't be alone on the streets that night."

I sat there quietly while Rosalie dried her tears. I had shed a lot of tears over Jane and how I just abandoned her – literally left her to die.

"She was good to you?" Rosalie finally asked.

"Yeah," I answered, nodding. "I believe that she's part of the reason I'm still alive."

We were saved, or at least that was how it felt, when Isabel called for her mom. While Rose checked on her, it gave me the opportunity to compose myself and shelve my final memory of Jane that haunted me for so long.

Rosalie came back a few minutes later looking better than she did when she left. Her hairline glistened, which indicated that she must have washed her face before she came back. I noticed her smile was forced as she tried to change the subject when she finally sat down. I didn't mind, though. I was grateful.

"So…about Edward," she teased, and I rolled my eyes. "I'm serious. There could be something there, and it's not like he doesn't know your past so there won't be any secrets between you guys. If you started seeing someone else there would always be the should-I-or-shouldn't-I tell him question. I think it would be easier with Edward."

"So that's why I should be with him? Because it would be easier?" I asked, slightly insulted. I don't need things to be easy for me to get along. I can do things the hard way and come out on top.

I'm still alive aren't I?

"Maybe I don't want easy. As you know, easy is not something I've been familiar with lately," I countered harshly. In true Rosalie fashion, she rolled her eyes right back and acted like me being pissed off wasn't a big deal.

"I didn't say you _wanted_ easy; I said it would be easy. Besides, it would be a moot point if you didn't want him anyway." I recognized that tone of voice; she was challenging me to deny the fact that I wanted to pursue something with Edward.

"It _is_ a moot point because whether I like him or not doesn't matter. Have you ever met Tanya?" I asked, causing her to sigh and nod. "That is the type of person that Edward looks good with. I'm so skinny you could use my ribs like a xylophone with my ribs – that's never sexy. She's damn near perfect - as far as looks go, anyway." Rosalie snorted, making me laugh as well. "I'm serious, though," I laughed.

"Tanya is a bitch and that's coming from me – the person who has treated Edward like shit every now and then. Just because two people look good together doesn't mean they _should _be together. Besides, who said that you don't look good with him?"

I tried to see things as positive as Rosalie, but I knew better.

"You know when people use the horrible line 'I'm not good for you'? Well I'm about to use it. I'm _not _good for him. I'm sure you see how much stress he can be under when he's working, the last thing he needs is a girlfriend that he has to worry about, and possibly doesn't even trust. It's…it's whatever," I finished, completely done with the discussion. Rosalie realized this, too, and changed the subject.

"How's the job?" she inquired.

"Good. Really good, actually," I said excitedly. "I'm learning a lot of business. I don't know if it'll ever come in handy, but it can't hurt to know, I guess."

Her smile faded a little, overtaken by a look of seriousness. "What about your painting? Are you just not doing that anymore?"

"I am," I assured her. "But I want to wait until I'm in a better place. I'm doing okay now, but creating something new just doesn't feel right at the moment." I paused, hesitating before I continued. "When I come back from Forks, I'm going to look into seeing a therapist. There are some things that I shouldn't work on by myself." I shrugged like it wasn't a big deal, but inside I felt like I was having a mini panic attack at the thought.

"Really?" she asked, sounding surprised. I didn't know if I should be offended or not.

"Yeah. I'm hoping my head will be a little clearer after the trip. I can't wait to buy all the stuff, though," I said, happily. "Supply shopping is almost just as fun as actually painting."

"Great. Do you want to make a day of it?" Rose asked as she poured herself another cup of coffee. It figures she asked about it _now_.

"Um…I kinda made plans with Edward already," I said, while busying myself inspecting my half full cup of coffee. Really, I just didn't want to look at Rosalie's smug face.

"Mmhm." Her tone was knowing and I just knew she was smirking. "And when did you make these plans."

"On Valentine's Day…on our semi, kinda date," I said into my coffee cup.

"Kinda date, huh?" She was fishing for details and we both knew it. With a roll of my eyes I told her about the semi, kinda date. I had thought about it way too much since and it was bordering on insane, but it was the only thing I had to go on.

"That was sweet, especially coming from someone like him. I think…no, I _know_ there's something there. I can play match-maker if you want," she sang.

"Ugh, please no. Remember all those failed attempts in high school and then college? Remember Mark, the nose picker?" I laughed. "You thought we could be good together because he aced the required core art class. You're a horrible match-maker."

Rosalie was bent at the waist laughing, crossing her legs and looking like she was about to start the pee dance. We spent the next twenty minutes regaling about all of my terrible attempts at dating in college. Eventually, we did have to run to the bathroom from laughing so hard.

This was the friendship with Rosalie that I knew and loved so much. It was also something that I thought I'd never get back.

**XxX **

"How you holding up?" Edward asked on our way to pick up Rosalie and Emmett. All four of us were on our way to Forks. Isabel was already with the Esme and Carlisle, as she was staying with them this weekend. I loved the little girl, but it was better that she not come.

"I don't think it's hit me yet and I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing," I answered truthfully. Maybe it was a good thing that it hadn't hit me yet. I'd more than likely freak out before we got there.

"Well, you have a lot of support if you need it," he assured me. I smiled gratefully, but didn't respond. In fact, I stayed quiet the whole car ride to the ferry, even with Rose and Em in the car. I needed time to think.

Because it started raining almost immediately after to ferry left the dock, most of the passengers stayed indoors while I continued to lean on the railing, letting the rain droplets mask the tears that came easily now. I was scared, so scared, but I couldn't pin point exactly what I was so afraid of.

Would all the memories wash down upon me like a tidal wave? _Would_ I remember anything at all? I think that frightened me more than remembering. It was like I had fooled myself into believing that I could do this, when all along I wasn't ready. It wasn't like I really needed to go anyway. Rosalie had all of my important papers; anything in that house could eventually be replaced in Seattle.

"It's going to be okay, ya know," Edward said, suddenly appearing at my side. Rose and Em flanked my other side. "This is a huge step and I'm so proud of you for taking it."

"What if it's too much?" I asked.

"It won't be too much that three people who care so much about you can't help you handle," Rosalie answered.

"These demons have to be fought alone," I answered glumly.

"These are not your demons, Bella. These are your parents," Edward said sternly. "This is your chance to say goodbye, for closure. This is a good thing."

"It doesn't feel like it."

"Look on the bright side," Edward began, "Emmett and I will be privy to what a young Isabella was like," he teased, nudging his shoulder with mine.

"Hell yeah," Emmett shouted, high fiving Edward.

"Oh, God," I groaned. "Hopefully I didn't leave any dirty underwear lying around," I joked.

"That's just…just gross," Emmet said, wearing a sour face.

**XxX**

"I'm gonna sit in the back," I announced when Edward retrieved his car. "I think… I'm gonna be sick."

It was definitely hitting me now. Though we were still only in Port Angeles, everything was so familiar. I could walk these streets with my eyes closed. I recognized places where I hung out with Rosalie when we were in high school and alleyways were I slept for the night. Nothing good was coming to me so far. It was all like a punch in the gut.

"Do you want to get something to eat or drink?" Rosalie asked, very clearly concerned.

"No. I just need to lie down and it'd be more comfortable in the back." Without waiting for an answer, I got into the back seat of Edward's car, slouching down and closing my eyes. It seemed like it took forever for us to finally get moving.

"C'mere." I opened my eyes at Edward's voice. He was supposed to be driving, so I was surprised to see him sitting in the back with me.

With his hand outstretched, I cuddled into his shoulder. He still smelled pretty good despite the dirty water that splashed around us while on the ferry. If the situation were different I would revel in the moment, but it wasn't. I was nervous and felt like I could throw up. At the moment, I was glad with the comfort he provided.

Despite the fact that the ride wasn't that long, I still managed to fall asleep, thankfully.

"Bella?" Edward said softly. "We're here."

I slowly rose, but kept my eyes shut. Maybe if I prepared myself it wouldn't be so bad. I slowly opened my eyes, scared that something would pop out at me like it was a horror movie, but nothing seemed out of sorts. Even down to the rusted red Chevy that was parked in our driveway. My dad was supposed to fix it up.

He never got around to it.

With a deep breath, I detached myself from Edward and exited the car.

Rosalie really kept this place looking good – just like my parents had.

"I'm going to go ahead and air it out. Take your time," Rosalie said, giving me a sad smile and taking Emmett with her. I let her walk ahead without saying anything.

I didn't want to go in there. At all.

"Sit on the steps with me?" I asked Edward, who had stuck by me since leaving the car.

"Sure."

We sat there silently, taking in everything around us – the forest that started across the street, the random cars that passed, and the almost identical clapboard house that neighbored mine.

Everything was still the same and it pissed me off. The world around me remained the same while mine fell apart. Why weren't they grieving, wilting away like I was?

"Recently, I've been wondering if I had a boyfriend like Rose has Emmett, if I would have handled things better. Maybe someone like you," I began. Edward's face twisted into something uncomfortable, and I felt horrible for making him uneasy. "Sorry, I wasn't trying to make this awkward," I apologized. "But anyway, yeah, I think that. Like maybe if I were more sociable in school, or more outgoing then I could have gotten over things easier and quicker. Then I realize, though, that thinking like that isn't fair to Rose. Like it lessens our friendship." I paused. "I just…why didn't I handle it better? Parents die every day and the world goes on. What made my parents different?" It was a rhetorical question and I didn't expect Edward to answer when he did.

"Because they were _your_ parents, that's what makes it different. People grieve in their own way. Was yours the healthiest? No, but that doesn't make you wrong. Plus, I'm sure you were closer to your parents than a lot of people ever are to their parents. Not to mention they were still young and it was an accident that no one saw coming. Don't beat yourself up for the way you felt. It's all been so unfair."

My emotions had been building all day and Edward's words were the straw that broke the camel's back. One tear turned into two, but they were good tears. It was the first time someone, besides myself, said everything has been unfair. I'm sure people thought it, but no one ever voiced it. Instead, they gave me sympathetic looks and told me it was going to be okay, or that my parents were in a better place. There place was on earth with me.

"Thank you," I said. With another deep, calming breath I stood up, ready to face the setting of many nightmares. I reached out my hand to Edward. "Let me give you a tour."

He smiled up at me and took my hand. "I'd love one."

Never releasing Edward's hand, I entered the only home I've ever known, ready to face the ghosts of my past.

**AN: Thanks for reading.**

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	23. Chapter 23

**AN: Beta'd by le wonderful SerineinNC. I made some changes after I got it back so all mistakes are mine, as always.**

**All things Twilight belong to SM**

I took a deep breath, steeling myself to enter the house that was once the epitome of safety. I closed my eyes tightly while holding onto Edward's hand and stepping over the threshold. Once I heard the click of the front door closing, I opened my eyes.

This...wasn't my house. Nothing was as I remembered it.

A small black and white area rug, which was never there before, laid flat in the foyer. The window that was to the immediate left of the door was veiled with a cream colored curtain. Nothing but mini blinds had ever covered that window.

Stepping into the living room with Edward in tow, I saw that this room was almost completely changed as well. The pictures and knick knacks that decorated the mantle and walls were still there, but angled differently than they always had been. The whole room was different, yet familiar.

The television that had been placed to the left of the room for as long as I could remember was now on the opposite side, along with the rest of the furniture. The beige sofa that remained stained no matter how many times Renee had tried to steam clean it, was draped with the floral slip cover that had only made one appearance before Charlie forbade Renee from ever using it again. He claimed it stripped the room of its masculinity.

The recliner that Charlie favored over the couch was completely reupholstered in an eggshell white fabric. Not even the new material could completely hide the permanent dent made by Charlie's ass. The afghan that was usually draped across the sofa was now folded to size and placed on the back of the recliner.

The wooden coffee table that was previously littered with old fishing magazines and Sports Illustrated was void of any clutter. It also appeared to be newly stained and the hardwood floors recently waxed.

There was even a fresh coat of paint on the walls – the same off white color that Charlie refused to deviate from.

"What's wrong?" Edward asked. I guess I was taking too long as I took everything in.

"It's just so different," I said, my voice low.

"That's understandable. You haven't been here in so long."

"No, that's not it. I could draw this room from memory; this is not the same room my parents' lived in for over twenty years," I informed him. A part of me was still in shock.

"I made some changes," Rosalie said from her place in the doorway. "I thought it would be easier this way if you ever came back." Her voice was timid; maybe even afraid. "Are you mad, do you hate it?"

Did I hate it?

The floors and walls had a clean, crisp look to them; cleaner than I could ever remember. The new direction of the room in general didn't really bother me – it was something different, not bad. If I was honest with myself, the stains, colors, and dents in the furniture were always tiresome to look at since the age of sixteen.

So did I hate it?

"No…I…like it. You did _all_ of this?" I asked

"Uh, yeah, and a little more," she confessed hesitantly.

"What does that mean?"

"I altered every room to some degree, except your parents' bedroom."

"Why?" I took another look around the room. "I mean, it's looks amazing, but why did you go through all this trouble? What if I never came back?"

"I couldn't think like that," she answered, shrugging. "I knew you were going to come back and when you did I wanted things to be easier for you. I figured if things weren't exactly the same as when the last time you were here, it would be smoother for you."

"How long did it take you to do the whole house?" Rosalie had done renovations, of sorts, and while I whole-heartedly appreciated and loved her for it, it was like another point on her side when comparing our friendship. I knew Rosalie didn't look at it like that, but I couldn't help it.

"About a year, maybe," she answered. "It's not a lot, but I could only come every so often."

Hesitantly, I turned to leave the room to explore the rest of the newly decorated house. I walked the short distance from the living room to the kitchen. It was irrational, but my heart was beating erratically and sweat was beginning to bead around my hairline. My guard was up like I expected something to pop out at me from the small hall closet or around some unsuspecting corner.

Before entering the kitchen I popped my head in to look for anything that seemed out of place. Once I deemed it all clear, I walked fully inside. The changes in here were subtle, but still noticeable. The once grey floral curtain that dressed the window above the sink was replaced by a soft yellow fabric. There was a similar yellow colored tablecloth that draped the once bare table. The tiles and appliances were scrubbed impeccably clean.

I reached out and yanked the refrigerator open. I didn't know what I expected to find, but I had to check anyway. The only thing inside was a box of baking soda and a half empty case of bottled water.

"Hey, Rose," I called out, still staring into the empty fridge.

"What's up?" she said while entering the kitchen.

"Um…when you cleaned the fridge out what was in it?" I asked her. I wasn't really sure what I wanted to hear.

"Uh…spoiled milk and fruit, water, jam, and some frozen stuff in the freezer. Why?" She had a concerned edge to her voice.

"No reason," I answered quickly. "I just forgot to clean it out, is all. I'm gonna go upstairs."

I shouldered my way through Rosalie and Edward, needing to get out quickly. I took a deep breath when I reached the first step. It was becoming increasingly harder to believe that I was only imagining that my parents were here the last time I was in this house. Everything was so real and I was second guessing my sanity again.

I didn't know anymore. I couldn't make sense of up and down and it had everything to do with this house. Being in it felt wrong; I felt like an outsider, a stranger in my own home.

I ascended the stairs slowly, biding my time like it would actually make a difference. I reached the top step and stood there looking down the hallway and into the open bathroom at the very end. On the left was my bedroom and the spare that eventually became Rosalie's when she stayed over. On the right was the master bedroom – my parents' room. Thankfully, all the doors were closed.

Like the coward I began realizing I was, I tailed it to my own room, avoiding the door to the room that seemed unnecessarily haunting. I wasn't ready for that room.

I felt safe once I stepped foot into the familiar bedroom. Like the living room and kitchen it was different but still familiar. My window also had new curtains and my bed had a new black duvet. Three walls were white while the wall my bed was pushed up against was red. My heart swelled with love and adoration as I stared at that wall. I always wanted an accent wall but my parents always forbade it- said that it would be too hard to repaint when the time came. Rosalie had finally gotten it done for me.

The only big changes that I noticed were the television and the dresser mirror were gone. However, a new full length mirror rested near my closet door. My shelves were still filled with old novels, textbooks, and CD's. My stereo that once sat on the floor next to my dresser now occupied the space where the TV once was.

"Nice room," Edward commented from the doorway.

I turned to look and gave him a genuine smile. "Thanks, but my room was not like this when I left. I'll pass the compliment on to Rose."

I opened my closet and hoped that she hadn't rearranged the items in there. Fortunately, she hadn't. On the floor in my closet was my folded easel that I had kept here for use when I was home from school. In the very back, I could see the art box where I kept some of my supplies. Standing up at the right of the closet were my various blank canvases.

"Mind if I look around?" Edward asked as I reached for my supply box. With a grunt of acceptance, I slowly opened the box as if I had just found buried treasure.

On the top tray my pencils and brushes remained used, but clean, in the very order I always aligned my tools – my pencils descended in number while my brushes ascended in size. It was a quirk that I couldn't get rid of.

I lifted the tray to find black and yellow oil paints and a very minimal set of water colors.

"_I was supposed to replace the paints that I needed," I thought._

"No fucking way?!" Edward laughed. I quickly replaced the tray and turned around to see what he found so funny in my bedroom.

"What?" I asked, unsure if I should be offended or not. Edward was hunched over my stereo and CD collection.

"Seriously, Bella?" he asked, still laughing. He pointed to the CD that was nestled in my stereo. I was able to recognize that orange disc anywhere without having to see the whole thing.

"So?" I asked, taking a false defensive stance. "They were a good band back in the day."

"I never took you for someone who listened to Hanson, Bella." He was now bent at the waist laughing at me. "I thought artists were tortured souls," he said between breaths. "Did your soul like to Mmmbop, Bella?" He was wiping away fake tears. "And they were never a good band."

"Screw you," I said, trying to use my most aggressive voice but failing. Edward's amusement was contagious, despite me being the butt of the joke.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he breathed between laughs. I gave him more time to compose himself before I got annoyed enough to kick him in the shin.

I began looking through random drawers to see what was inside, no longer amused by his judgment of my former musical taste. The dresser still had clothes from years ago; some of them I hardly recognized or remembered. My night stand's first drawer had a bunch of random things in it – pens and pencils, scrap paper with doodles on them, an old cell phone that had a gray screen. The second drawer held my Archie comic book collection, along with my Betty and Veronica, and Jughead comics; I used to pick up a new one every time I went to the supermarket.

"What's that?" Edward asked, standing beside me. He was pointing to something that was hidden under the bed. I bent to see what he was pointing at and saw the now dull and faded crimson stain.

"That, Edward, is the reason I'm not much of a drinker anymore," I chuckled, remembering the day that stain was made.

"I'm sensing a story here," he replied. I shrugged, but smiled widely.

"It's not much of a story. When I was seventeen, my dad took my mom camping in the Olympic National Park for the weekend. While they were away Rosalie stayed over. They left on Friday and we spent Saturday drinking and hanging around the house. Rose is a funny drunk, by the way. Somehow we got to talking about old toys and Sky Dancers came up – those dolls that would spin and fly off when you pulled the string and let go?" I had to stop talking when my laughing became uncontrollable. Edward looked amused, but still confused. "Anyway, Rosalie said that we could fly, too, if we could get a good spinning start. It made sense at the time so I agreed. I thought that if I started from somewhere high my chances would be even better, so I got on top of my bed, put my arms out and began spinning."

"Oh, God," Edward groaned, already knowing where this was going.

"When I thought I was good to go, I leapt off my bed. Totally crash landed," I sighed. "Face planted on the floor, banging my nose. It didn't break, thank God, but it bled pretty badly, thus ending my wild drinking days and any notion that I might be able to fly," I ended, my voice laced with mock disappointment.

"How old were you again?" he teased.

"Seventeen, but I was wasted beyond belief. I prayed to the porcelain god that night and the hangover was no joke – lasted two days. My parents were pissed," I mused. It was one of the few times I got in trouble in my youth. They did laugh about it with me later, though. "Where is Rose?" I asked when I realized how quiet it was in the house. I knew she would love to relive that story again.

"She went to the store with Emmett to pick up some groceries." He continued looking around the room while I sat and eventually lay on the bed. It creaked quietly, but was just as plush as I remembered it. It felt surreal to be on the bed again. I turned on my side, closing my eyes and, for a moment, pretending that it was always this way.

Pretending that my parents were out somewhere having a good time, not dead.

Pretending that I never disappeared for years and did despicable things.

Pretending that I made a name for myself with my painting.

However, reality had a shrewd way of creeping up when you least desired it to. Pretending didn't work for long. My parents were dead and I spent days on this bed letting their death eat me alive. I let the anguish fester in my heart and mind to the point where I couldn't decipher what was real and what wasn't. I still wasn't sure.

"You alright?" I heard Edward ask a second before I felt the bed dip. "You were mumbling."

I turned on my other side to look at him. I loved when he looked at me like that – showing me he really did care.

"Knowing what you do about the last time I was home, do you think I made the whole thing up? Like it was all in my head?" I asked, purposely avoiding calling myself crazy. I was sick of referring to myself as that.

"Honestly?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yeah," I encouraged.

"I don't think you made it up, but I do think it was in your head. It's not uncommon, though, after going through something so traumatic; it was your mind's way of dealing." He stopped talking for a second, looking as though he was thinking what to say next. "I've done my fair share of amputations in my career and it's not unusual for a patient to complain of phantom pain after everything is said and done. Like, they'll complain about a pain in the arm that was removed. People have different ways to cope and the mind can play some powerful tricks."

Could that be it? Was I trying to cope? Of course I was, but so dramatically? That had to be it. It was the most logical explanation I had heard and the simplest one at that

"That makes sense," I agreed. "I just don't want this house and their memory to haunt me. I want to be able to remember them and the good times. I don't want it to hurt every time I remember that I never got to say goodbye or that I can't even remember the funeral."

"Well, I don't think it's a bad thing that you're upset that you never got to say goodbye. To me, that just tells me you cared and how deep your love for them ran. Over time it should get easier, but I don't think you should forget it. As far as the funeral, maybe that's something you should talk to Rosalie about. Maybe you'll start to remember things when you hear her talk about it."

"Move over," he demanded after a few quiet seconds. "This bed looks comfy and I'm tired."

I rolled my eyes, but moved over anyway to make some room. With an exaggerated moan, Edward fell on the bed.

"Ah, you would never have thought that the girl that smelt like piss could have such a comfortable bed, did ya?" I teased. Edward stiffened and turned his head to look over at me.

"I don't know if I ever apologized for that, but I really am sorry." His voice was soft and sincere, but ashamed at the same time.

I shrugged my shoulders. "It's no big deal," I lied, not wanting him to feel bad. "I did smell," I agreed. There was an awkward silence. "Did I ever tell you what happened that day?" He shook his head. "That guy, Peter," I began. Edward's features hardened and I knew he still remembered that name. "He cornered me in a small alley between two stores, and robbed me of the money I stole to give to you. He beat me up pretty good, too. It was so long ago now and I can't remember if I wet myself in fear or if maybe my body just couldn't hold it anymore," I explained, shrugging. "When I came to, I smelt like a urinal."

Edward didn't say anything at first, but his breathing was loud and labored.

"Did he rape you?" he finally asked. His voice took on a familiar hard edge that he used to use very often with me.

"Not that day, no."

"But he has," Edward confirmed, reading between the lines.

"Yeah."

"How come you never told me any of this before?" he asked angrily, turning his whole body to me.

"What would have been the point? Shit like this happens. You gotta learn from it and be smarter next time."

"Are you hearing yourself right now?" His voice was desperate, not angry like it was a second ago. "Be smarter next time? Like you expect it to happen again." He threw himself on his back and rubbed his face furiously.

"It's not that uncommon," I tried to defend.

"Why are you telling me all this now?"

"I don't know," I answered truthfully. "Things are different between us now than they were then. I don't think you would have really cared before. Who knows if you would have cared enough about it, instead of seeing me as someone you helped get off the streets. Hell, I didn't see myself as more than that, so I guess I couldn't blame you."

"You have changed…a lot," he admitted.

"For the better or…?"

"Definitely for the better."

Quiet and comfortable minutes passed between us. When I snuck a peek over at him, his eyes were closed and his breathing was even.

"Hey, Edward?" I called out before he could fall asleep. I didn't know if I was on some confession high, but I needed to get this one last thing out there before I lost my nerve. Most likely I would regret it once it was out there, but I couldn't leave with another 'what if'.

"Yeah?" His eyes remained closed, but he turned his head in my direction. It was better that he wasn't looking at me, anyway.

"Do you think that…we could ever be…more than friends?" His eyes opened slowly, then narrowed in contemplation. His failure to respond was making me extremely nervous. "Yeah…never mind. You're tired, I'm tired. I'm saying dumb things, ruining the nice moment we just had," I stammered in embarrassment. This feeling of inadequacy was something that I got used to and wore as a second skin lately.

I turned onto my back again and closed my eyes, praying to everything holy, that he'd just forget everything I just said. It would be even better if the bed could just swallow me whole.

With my eyes closed, I could feel Edward's form hovering over me, but I refused to look. Maybe if I didn't acknowledge it, it wasn't happening. However, there was no way to _not_ acknowledge his lips on mine, pressing softly yet firmly. He pulled away seconds after I pressed my lips back.

"Open your eyes, Bella." I kept them shut the whole time because if I was imagining that kiss, I knew it would disappear the moment I let the slightest bit of reality seep in. But hearing his voice, I knew it was real. I opened them slowly to see Edward propped up on his elbows, smiling and looking over at me.

"I'm not ruling us out, but I think it's something we should talk about when we get back to Seattle, not right now. I want you – all of us – to concentrate on helping you get closure, or whatever it is you need, while we're here."

I nodded, too overwhelmed to speak, and smiled. He didn't say that we would definitely have a go at it, but he didn't laugh in my face, either.

XxX

I stared at the closed door that held the majority of my parents' memory. Important talks about sex and health were held on the very bed that was just beyond the door. I remember when I was twelve and I heard a consistent squeaky noise that had me tempted to look under my own bed for monsters that I stopped believing in years ago.

Boy was I embarrassed when I realized what it was!

I also remembered playing with Renee's makeup at fourteen, thinking I needed to practice for high school. I raided her closet for clothes more than any regular teenage girl should.

I remembered Charlie flying me around the room like I was an airplane until he tossed me on the bed for a crash landing.

With one hand on the paneled door and the other on the cold nickel doorknob, I cautiously turned the knob and eased the door open.

"Oh, God," I cried, slamming the door shut as Charlie's scent hit me full strength. It was as if he had drenched himself just this morning. I slid down the opposite wall as tears fell from my eyes uncontrollably.

There were fast and heavy footfalls coming upstairs.

"Bella? Bella, what's wrong?" Rosalie asked frantically. She patted all over my body with her hands, checking for signs of injury. "Tell me what happened?"

I pointed to the door, still unable to form coherent words, let alone a logical sentence.

Maybe this was what I needed. Maybe this proved that I wasn't crazy. How could a person's smell be so strong when they've been dead four years now? They _were _here!

"Please, Bella! I need to know what's wrong?" I could see the glossiness in Rose's eyes; her own tears of worry and helplessness just seconds from breaking free and marring her beautifully made up face.

"Charlie," I managed to gargle out, still pointing at the door. "He's in there. I can smell him." Bringing my head to my knees, I hid my face while I continued to cry hard.

"Oh, honey, no," Rose cooed. What I once considered her comforting voice became a voice of mockery – of judgment. "Charlie's gone and so is Renee." She wrapped her arms around me, hugging me awkwardly. "I spilled his aftershave the last time I was here. You know how awfully strong that stuff is," she laughed through her own light tears. "I aired the room out all day, but as you smelled, it wouldn't go away once it soaked into the rug."

She spilled his aftershave?

She spilled his aftershave.

As inappropriate as the moment was, I couldn't stop myself from laughing like a loon. What the fuck was I doing in this house? I wasn't ready for it. I deluded myself, and everyone else, into believing that I could do this – get closure. Who the hell in their right mind assumes there are ghosts lingering as the most logical reasoning?

I laughed as I wiped the snot that had landed just above my lip. Rosalie did a frown cringe thing that made me laugh harder.

"Tell me about it?" I asked after I was able to compose myself. "About the funeral."

"You sure?" I nodded. She didn't look convinced, but went on anyway. "Let me see… There were a lot of people. I would say well over four hundred had paid their respects, but the guest book only held three hundred names. There were flowers everywhere that eventually followed us to the grave site. A few close friends spoke very beautifully…"

I waved my hand, interrupting her. It was nice to know that my parents were loved, but that's not what I wanted to know.

"What about Mom and Dad? Tell me about them."

"Renee was dressed in that yellow wrap dress that she loved so much, adorned with that sunflower broach." She smiled sadly.

Renee hated to wear dark colors like black and deep grays and only tolerated earth colors. Her wardrobe was littered with whites, pinks, yellows, and blues. She liked colors that could "make her smile". While a yellow dress wasn't something someone would typically dress the deceased in, it was something that was completely Renee.

"Charlie was dressed in a nice black suit with a yellow tie to match Renee," she chuckled. I didn't even need her to explain. I felt myself smiling as I recalled all the times my mother made Charlie wear that tie so they could match. Charlie hated that tie, but loved my mom enough to wear it when she asked.

"They also had matching solid cherry wood caskets," she told me, smiling and shrugging at the same time. The cherry wood was more for me – I loved cherry wood.

I tried to remember these little facts, but nothing sounded familiar.

Rosalie took a shuddering breath next to me, drawing my attention back to her. She brought her knees up, resting her head against them as she cried silent tears. The streaks that stained her cheeks were like a slap in the face.

"I'm so sorry, Rose," I apologized, crying all over again. "For making you go through all of that alone; it wasn't your job."

"It wasn't a job to me. It was doing the last thing I could for people that I loved," she corrected, wiping away tears with her hand.

"I know, but still. It's not even that, really. Never once did I ever consider how you were feeling, not even years after their death. They were like your second parents and I never considered how you might be grieving. How hard it was for you."

Rosalie didn't respond and I was glad she didn't. I didn't want to hear some lie about how she was okay and it wasn't that bad, because we both know it was.

"What was left to you in the will?" I asked. I knew it wasn't a matter of _if_ they left her anything, it was a matter of _what_. My parents' love for her ran deep.

"All her jewelry except the gold locket; that's yours." The gold locket held a small picture of my maternal grandmother and grandfather. Aside from her wedding ring set, it was the only piece of jewelry that held sentimental value to Renee.

"I'm not surprised," I chuckled. Rosalie didn't hide the fact that she drooled over Renee's jewelry. Many times, she asked to borrow earrings or a necklace for this occasion or that. Half of it was just costume jewelry, but the other half could easily be valued at a few thousand dollars.

"It's still inside," she said, pointing at the door with her chin. "It didn't feel right taking it without you around. I felt like I was stealing or something."

I nudged her shoulder with mine, trying to lighten the mood. "You should have taken it. We all know it was my shit you used to steal," I laughed.

"Screw you, witch. If I stole anything from you it was because I was stealing it back."

XxX

"Hey, Sky Dancer," Edward greeted Rose when we came downstairs. Rose had a look of horror on her face before turning to glare at me.

"You told him!" she shrieked.

"He found the blood stain," I explained.

"What am I missing?" Emmett asked, confusion marring his face as he looked between everyone.

"Nothing!" Rose sneered, eyeing Edward and me warningly. "Anyway," she continued, "I was thinking that we could drive around the area and you can check out the changes around Forks. Maybe grab dinner at the diner."

"You just bought food. Why would we go out for dinner?" Edward asked.

"Well, for one, I mainly bought beverages and snack food. Secondly, I'm not in the mood to cook, Bella and Emmett are hopeless, so unless you're in the mood to cook, I suggest you shut up and follow my lead," Rose finished in an overly friendly tone.

"Whatever," he muttered.

Half hour later we were driving by our old high school. Nothing about it changed, not even the dead grass on the football field had been tended to. In fact, not much about Forks changed at all. The only difference I saw was a store or two changed storefronts. Maybe they even added an additional stop sign.

"_That's_ your old high school?" Emmett asked from the backseat where he sat with Edward. Rosalie was driving and I was riding shot-gun. "The annex building in my school is bigger than that," he commented, disgusted.

"Yup," Rosalie said wistfully, not the slightest bit offended by Emmett. "We had some good times. Under those bleachers," she began, pointing to the football field, "was where I had my one and only girl kiss."

"What?!" Edward and Emmett asked at the same time.

"Yup. Ask Bella, she was there," she said, smirking. I could have punched her.

"What?!" They both asked again. I sighed in irritation.

"Rosalie said that I needed practice kissing and _that_ was why I never dated," I explained, rolling my eyes at the absurdity of it. "She told me to practice on her because if I was bad it wouldn't be embarrassing and she could tell me what I was doing wrong."

"So how were you?" Edward asked eagerly. Emmett punched his shoulder in excitement and began nodding furiously, waiting for an answer as well.

"I dunno, Rose didn't get the chance to critique – the bell rang."

"Eh, I had no complaints," Rosalie interjected.

"Eh? What does "eh" mean?" I asked, slightly offended.

"It means that you were good, but you're a girl and it just didn't do it for me."

"It wasn't about getting you off, perv," I laughed, punching her shoulder.

"Well, I think, and I'm sure Edward would agree with me, that you two should try again and let us be the judge," Emmett said seriously.

"I concur," Edward added. "Strictly for critiquing purposes, of course."

"Yeah, maybe later," I said mockingly, waving them away.

"They suck," Emmett told Edward. "Can we go eat now? I'm sure we've seen all the wonders that Forks holds," he grumbled.

"Fine, but it's a bit of a drive to the diner," Rosalie warned. I tried hiding my smile. Literally, three minutes later, we were parked in the diner's lot.

"I don't know if I could have held off much longer," Emmett jabbed.

Entering the diner, I saw some faces that looked familiar but could only put a few names to the faces. However, based on some of the looks we were getting, most of them recognized me. I led everyone to a table that seemed the most isolated. People leaned in and whispered as we walked by.

"Well this is awesome," I snarked. "Still a small town with small town gossips. Can you guess who the topic is today?"

"Do you want to order to go?" Edward asked sympathetically.

"If no one else minds, then yeah." Everyone nodded their agreement.

We spent a few minutes looking over the menu before a waiter finally appeared.

"Hey Rosalie," the waiter greeted immediately." I knew that voice and because I did, I didn't want to look up. "Hi, I'm Mike. What can I get you?" he said to the rest of the table. I waited for everyone to place their order before I tried mumbling mine, looking at the table. I thought he was going to walk away, but of course he didn't.

"Bella, is that you?" he asked. I finally looked up from the carving on the table.

"Hey, Mike," I greeted lamely.

"Holy shit! I can't believe it's you. The whole town thought you off-ed yourself after your parents died," he laughed in astonishment. "People said you were acting a little…" he twirled his finger at his temple, "at the funeral."

At the same time my jaw hit the ground, Edward shot up and threw his fist back, cleanly connecting with Mike's face.

He was out cold.

**AN: I'm sure many of you have been hearing about the SU2C/SU4K compilation. Along with a monetary donation, I am donating the second chapter of That's What He Said, a o/s that I'm extending into a short story. There are A LOT of authors contributing (the most I've seen in awhile) and for as little as $5 you can get a TON of great stories.**

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**...I know there is something I'm forgetting...**


	24. Chapter 24

**AN: Hey! Still with me? Sorry for the very long wait. I have my excuses/reasons, but that's not what you want to hear so we'll get on with it.**

**Chapter beta'd by SerineinNC and all things Twilight belong to SM**

I didn't know if I wanted to rip Edward a new one or hug him. On one hand, he should have realized how stupid it was to assault someone so violently and in front of so many witnesses. After being homeless for as long as I had, I had learned to commit crimes, no matter how serious or petty, very carefully and obviously with as few bystanders as possible. On the other hand, however, no matter how dumb his actions were, it was extraordinary how he had stuck up for me. In a twisted way, that punch was incredibly sweet – even with Mike laying on the floor out cold.

I still had time to consider my feelings as we rode to the jail to bail Edward out.

"Did the cop say how much his bail was going to be?" I asked from the backseat of Edward's car.

After Edward punched Mike the whole place erupted in frenzy. On top of that, I was still in a bit of shock from Mike's comment. He didn't bother me – I always thought he was an idiot – it was that he was implying that everyone in this town believed that I was in such a depressed state that I would kill myself.

Between everything that was going on I couldn't concentrate on one single thing. After Edward punched Mike, a waitress came out of nowhere, screaming at Edward and pleading for Mike to wake up. Some old lady, I think her name was Ms. Blake if I remember correctly, the spinster who never married, was yelling while trying to fiddle with a cell phone while a different lady actually was on the phone with the police. Emmett was unnecessarily holding an un-struggling Edward back while Rosalie cursed at an unconscious Mike.

I was just there.

The police arrived quickly. I recognized them as former classmates – Chase and John. John was a year or two younger and I rarely talked to him. I wasn't really friends with Chase, either. We were more like acquaintances; we said hi and bye.

"Nope, but how much can it be? He didn't do much damage, anyway," Emmett answered.

Like the drive to anywhere in the small town, we arrived in less than ten minutes. The building itself was never changing, like always. The only difference was the landscaping, which had never been as nicely trimmed as it was now.

"Can you do this?" Rose asked, pointing at the station.

It didn't occur to me how seeing this place might affect me. Strangely, though, it wasn't as bad as being in the house. It didn't hurt or bring back sad memories; maybe because I never did spend much time here. Instead, it made me wish I knew more about what my father did; what his job entailed besides the simple and underappreciated "cop".

"Yeah, I'm fine. I never thought I'd say it, but I just want to get home."

I walked into the familiar small lobby of the police station, the always present draft hitting me in the face. The counter that separated the front of the station from the chief's office, the temporary holding cells, and the two desks that accommodate the receptionist – who doubled as a dispatcher – and any officer that needed the writing space.

"Bella? Is that you?" the receptionist, Mrs. Gavin, asked. She was old when I was a child and looked like she was knocking on death's door now. However, she was always a sharp lady, so I wasn't very surprised that she was still kicking.

"Yes. Hi, Mrs. Gavin. How are you? How's Thomas?" I greeted politely, asking about her son. As far as I knew, her husband, George had died long before I would have remembered and she was left with her son to raise on her own. I think Thomas was around my father's age.

She shuffled out of her chair and lifted the hinged counter top. She placed her wrinkled, but still strong hands on my shoulders, eyeing me up and down. She smiled lightly before enveloping me in a hug that wasn't as tight as it once was.

"I'm good, Tommy's good," she answered with a dismissive wave. "But I want to know about you. Are you more famous than Picasso now?" she asked sweetly, innocently.

"No," I answered sadly but lightly. "I sold a few things, but people haven't paid millions for my stuff yet." I didn't have the heart to tell her the truth. Really, I didn't have the guts to tell anyone in this town what had become of me.

"Psshh, it's just a matter of time before you get there. Your father always believed in you and so do I. That's why I want you to sign something before you leave town again. I want your autograph before you make it big so I can brag about it later."

"Like a piece of paper?" I laughed.

"No, dearie, that painting that you gave me when you were little. The one of the bunny in the woods," she answered proudly; as if it were one of my master pieces.

"You still have that?!" I laughed again, a little embarrassed this time. "I was like, what, six? Why do you still have that?"

"I save everything, that's why. It's at home. That's why you need to stop by again before you leave. And you, too, missy," Mrs. Gavin said sternly, pointy a long and boney finger at Rose. "Don't think that I don't hear about your visits. Too busy to come and see an old lady," she admonished.

Emmett laughed as Rose blushed and had the decency to look ashamed. She elbowed him in the gut, shutting him up.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Gavin. I was always so busy and never stayed for much socializing," Rose apologized.

"I know, sweetie. It's nice to see you, though." She turned her saddened eyes back to me. "How've you been holding up, dearie? We sure do miss the chief and his pretty wife around here. Best chief ever with the most wicked sweet tooth." I knew she was sincere and not just looking to pry information out of me like a lot of other people in this town would. Mrs. Gavin had become like an extended part of the family. On occasion, she would join us for holidays when her son was away on business.

"Eh," I shrugged. "It's still really hard, but I'm getting there. It's tough being back, ya know?"

"Yes, I know," she answered sadly. "I loved them as if they were my own children." Her voice cracked lightly, before she cleared it with a cough. "Anyway, as much as I'm glad to see you, I doubt this is strictly a social call, so what can I do for you?"

"Oh, well, they just brought someone in. Edward? We're here to bail him out," I explained.

"That pretty young thing?" she asked, with a wiggle of her thin grey eyebrows. "He your boyfriend?"

She managed to make me blush in embarrassment. Not that I was embarrassed because of her words, but because it felt like she knew Edward and I were going to have that conversation; it was like I got caught with my hand in the cookie jar

"No, he's just a friend. He's his brother," I said, pointing to Emmett, "and Rose's brother-in-law."

"You bagged yourself a hunk," she said to Rose. Emmett smiled wide and puffed out his chest in pride.

"Sure did!" Rose confirmed.

"Let me just go get Chase."

I was surprised when both Chase and Edward rounded a corner a few minutes later, chatting together, though I couldn't hear what either was saying. Edward patted him on the back before making his way over to us.

"Uhh…we didn't post your bail yet," Emmett said, sounding just as confused as I was.

"No bail needed," Chase said, waving his hand. "But, Bella, can I speak with you in private for a minute?" he asked, sounding friendlier than I was expecting.

"Yeah…sure." I looked at Rose, shrugging, not having any clue what he could want to speak with me about. I followed him into my father's old office, though nothing but the American and Washington state flags behind the desk looked familiar.

"So what's up?" I asked. "Why didn't we have to bail Edward out?"

"Because Mike's an asshole, who deserved it. Did you know that he got fired from his parents' business? How badly do you need to mess up to have your own mom and dad let you go?" he asked rhetorically. "Mr. Cullen told me what happened and I believe him. I let him go with a warning."

"Wow! That was really nice of you."

He shrugged. "Look, I know we weren't really friends in high school or anything, but how are you doing since your parents died?" The amount of sheer concern was surprising coming from him.

I didn't answer right away, not sure how to reply.

"Don't take this the wrong way," he continued, "but you seemed…distant at their funeral. I wanted to express my condolences but, I don't know, it didn't feel right at the time."

"You were there? At the funeral?" I asked, not remembering seeing him.

"I think the whole town was there. Moreover, it was my second year on the force. I really looked up to Chief Swan; he was like a mentor to me."

"Can I ask you a question and have you answer honestly?" I asked, going out on a limb. He nodded. "Did I seem…I dunno, insane?" I was worried at how he would respond, but ready to hear nonetheless.

"Insane?" he asked, flabbergasted. "Is that what Mike said?"

"In not so many words."

He shook his head. "Well, like I said, you seemed distant…distraught even, but with good reason. I don't mean to bring up old wounds, but you lost both parents at the same time, so it's easy to understand your lack of socialization."

"But I don't even remember it!" I said more to myself than for sake of explanation.

"I don't mean to overstep my bounds here, but have you talked to anyone, professionally? I had an aunt that I was extremely close to that passed away last year and it tore me up inside. Talking to someone outside the family really helped; he didn't tell me what I wanted to hear, but what I needed to hear."

"I'm going to look into it when I get back to Seattle. I needed to come back here to get my head out of my ass first," I explained, trying to lighten the mood. Really, I was growing a little anxious talking about this and I think that Chase was feeling it too.

"Let me let you go. Just take care of yourself…and come visit us again." He leaned forward and embraced me in a hug, that unsurprisingly, wasn't that awkward. Maybe it was because we had more things in common than I assumed.

**XxX**

"So that was a lucky break," Emmett commented when we all packed ourselves in Edward's car.

"I'll say," Edward responded. "Fortunately, Mike is such a prick that no one wants to help him."

"But what if he decides to press charges later or something?" I asked worriedly. The last thing I wanted was for Edward to get in legal trouble because of me.

"I asked the officer that already. He said that he was sure that many of the witnesses could attest to the fact that it was self-defense." I looked at him dubiously. "I'm serious," he laughed. "He said that."

The rest of the ride was spent listening to Emmett taunt Edward about his "reckless, criminal ways". If Emmett thought that Edward had acted criminally, I'd make him keel over in shock if I told him some of the things I had done.

Before going home we stopped at the grocery store to pick up the stuff to make burgers since we never got to eat. It wasn't until after dinner that I got the chance to talk to Edward alone.

"You didn't have to do that you know," I said while rinsing the soap off the grease drip tray from the Foreman grill. Whenever Rosalie and I were in the kitchen together she did the cooking and I would do the dishes. Time never let her forget the dishes were my duty.

"What, dry?" he asked as he continued to rub the glass with a towel. "It's no problem."

"No," I replied, seriously, not in the mood for the casualness he was exuding. I stopped what I was doing and turned my head to him. "You didn't have to defend me. All it did was almost get you in trouble; you were lucky nothing bad came of it." He didn't look back while I talked and still didn't when I stopped.

"It's not that I don't appreciate it," I continued, hoping he wasn't taking it the wrong way. "It's just that you shouldn't have…" He cut me off before I could finish.

"Is this where you make some self-deprecating comment about how you're not worth it or something similarly eye-roll worthy?" he snarked, literally rolling his eyes, never stopping what he was doing despite the glass being squeaky dry.

I looked at him, wordlessly with my mouth slightly agape.

"Do you want to know why I started seeing Tanya in the first place?" he continued and I felt like I had just been slapped in the face at the mention of Tanya. He finally put the glass down only to grab the tray I had just washed. "She was confident; she knew what she wanted and how to get it. That's the difference between you two." He quickly dried the tray and put it down, finally looking at me. "Want to know what the _major_ difference between the two of you? There are a few."

I was still speechless and unable to respond, though he didn't wait long before he answered his own question.

"You are so much smarter than she is and have so much more potential than she could ever have. You're more grateful, nice, and redeemable. Tanya…well, Tanya is a bitch. You need to see yourself for what you _really_ are, not what you've think you've become." He paused a second before finishing. "I'm not saying this to be mean, but I can't be with someone who doesn't see themselves clearly and you, Bella, are the epitome of that."

"I'm a work in progress you know," I spat out, my shock finally bubbling into anger. "What do you expect from me, to strut around like some goddamn Miss America? You go through the bullshit I went through and let me know how you fare, asshole." My ire rose to unbelievable levels when Edward began smirking. "Don't smile; this isn't funny. Maybe you _should_ be with Tanya – douche bags belong together."

He kept staring and smirking and it took great restraint to not shove the fork I was washing right into his shoulder.

"What?!" I asked when I couldn't take this eyeballing anymore. Before I could come up with some nasty comment, he stooped down and pressed a firm kiss on my lips. It was too quick for me to either respond or realize what was happening.

"What was that for?" I asked, astonished, as I tried not to dwell on the tingling feeling on my lips.

"I dunno," he replied, shrugging. "I like that fierceness – it's sexy," he joked, wagging his eyebrows. I tried suppressing an amused smile, trying not to succumb so easily, but failing miserably.

"You're a jerk," I answered, pursing my lips to hide my smile again.

We finished washing the dishes, trading faux insults back and forth – him attacking my lack of self-confidence and me poking fun at his over-inflated ego. This was the first time I was able to be like this with him – joking and carefree and not having to worry that I was going to say the wrong thing. In the last few days I learned that Edward was a lot more caring and amusing that he let on.

XxX

I waited until the house and its occupants were settled. Edward slept downstairs, despite my offer for him to sleep in my parents' room. I think that he sensed my anxiety with the gesture, despite the fact that I made the offer. Instead, he opted for the sofa downstairs.

I snuck across the hall and into my parents' room. I switched on the bedside lamp so as not to emit so much light.

Taking a good look around, the room looked exactly as it always looked – the old bedspread that rested limply on the bed with four pillows, my childhood photos on the walls, and worn dresser that mostly housed their sleepwear and odds and ends clothing that they only wore to lounge around the house. I walked over to my mother's vanity, surveying the contents. Opening the only draw, I immediately spotted her travel make up bag. Renee only believed in the basics and never possessed any more than six items of makeup.

Pulling the draw back further, I saw the wide jewelry box that she kept her costume pieces in. I opened the box, moving around the gold and silver rings and bracelets. Stones of all colors littered the space, each demanding to be noticed first. I lifted the tray to see the necklaces aligned as straight as possible.

I left the box out so I didn't forget to grab it on my way out. These were rightfully Rosalie's now, along the few expensive pieces that she kept in a velvet bag that was hanging from a hook, hidden in the closet on the side. They were hiding in plain sight.

I walked the few steps to the closet, opening it slowly, trying to silence the creaking noise that my parents' never thought important enough to fix. Their clothes hung the same way. The left, Charlie's side, was mostly made up of neatly lined different colored flannels, Levi blue jeans, and his three uniforms. On the right, Renee's side, was a jumble of colors with no rhyme or reason. It was a mess and it made me smile.

I reached my hand toward Renee's side of the closet and I was able to blindly, but quickly, find the green velvet bag. I emptied the items on the bed, the diamond items tumbling out. I recognized it all – the tennis bracelet Charlie gave Renee on their ten year anniversary, the two carat diamond engagement ring that Charlie spent over a year saving for, a pair of sapphire earrings that my grandmother gave my mom for her something blue for her wedding. Lastly, there was the locket that Rose mentioned and that I was all too familiar with. I put it around my neck without opening it. I couldn't do _that_ right now. I tucked it inside my shirt, not wanting to be questioned about it later.

Everything my parents were took up space in this room. If I looked under the bed, I knew I would find boxes of a 1000 piece puzzle that Charlie loved to do. In the nightstand next to my mom's side would be a journal that Renee wrote in every night like a diary. Every corner of this room held some kind of memory that at the time seemed so inconsequential, but now so vital in keeping them alive in my heart.

I wondered if Rosalie would let me have the jewelry in the velvet bag. I never appreciated the sentimental value, until sentiment was all I had.

I made my way up to the top of the bed after putting the jewelry away, hugging a pillow to my chest and absorbing everything around me. Charlie's scent was still strong, but was getting easier to ignore. My mom's picture still stood proudly on my father's side of the bed and, what I'm sure was a book my mother never even opened, on hers.

This was my safe place. This place, in this moment, was what I wanted to wrap myself in and forget about the horrible things that happened and what I had done. That was what I was taking away with me.

XxX

"Bella?" I heard my name being called, rousing me from sleep that I had no desire of waking from. I opened one eye then two, trying to fight the urge to crawl under the covers and go back to sleep. When my sight was finally functional enough to take in my surroundings, I realized that I had fallen asleep in my parents' bedroom. It didn't bother me, though. It made me feel…whole, complete. It just felt right.

"I'm in here," I croaked, my throat dry from sleep. Rosalie popped her head in, her eyes showing the disbelief of the situation.

"I came in here last night and I must have fallen asleep," I explained.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, concerned.

"Yeah. It's actually pretty great," I answered honestly.

"Great." The relief in her voice shined through. "We have to start getting ready if we want to head over to the cemetery before we head home."

I spent the rest of the morning going through the rest of the rooms and repacking the few things that I had unpacked. I had also remembered to bring the jewelry box and velvet bag.

"What's that?" I asked Rose, pointing to the box that was placed with the rest of the stuff that was to be put in the car.

"Your clothes. I figured it would be a good idea to bring some of your clothes that you could use."

I nodded and continued to check the rest of the house- making sure nothing was plugged in or running. After making sure the house was closed up properly, we packed our belongings and ourselves into Edward's car. Before heading to the cemetery we made a pit stop to the station so I could say good-bye and autograph the picture that Mrs. Gavin surely brought, and a floral shop to bring a bouquet for the headstone.

The ride to the cemetery was quiet, everyone lost in their own heads. My thoughts fluttered to different places, probably trying to avoid the fact that I was about to visit my parents' grave for the first time.

"Hey, Rose?" I called to her quietly as another new thought came to mind.

"Yeah," she answered distractedly, turning away from the window.

"My room," I began but stopped when Rosalie tensed slightly. "Did you take things from it because there used to be a tv and a dresser mirror in there."

"You still don't remember?" she asked sadly. I shook my head, confused at her tone. She scooted closer and brought her voice down to a whisper. "Your room was trashed. The tv was on the floor and the mirror was cracked like it was smashed with something. I threw them out."

"I did that," I stated, not asked, as small fragments of memory came back. I turned from her, shame rushing through me like a raging river. Every time I thought I was making progress something pushed me back. Maybe I was over reacting right now, but there was still a strong pang of embarrassment to know that Rosalie not only witnessed the result of my emotional breakdown, but had to clean it up.

We finally pulled into the almost completely deserted cemetery. A lone car was parked to the side of the paved path; a man with flowers walked to some undetermined grave.

"Stop here," Rosalie instructed Edward after about another thirty feet from the parked car. "Do you want to do this alone?" she asked when the car came to a complete stop.

"Yeah," I answered after thinking about it for a few seconds. "I think I need to."

"Alright. Their grave is down this row," she pointed out to our left, "the fifth one in and don't forget these." She handed me the carnations, my mother's favorite.

"Thanks. I won't be long," I assured everyone in the car.

"Take your time," Edward and Emmett said in unison, followed by Emmett punching Edward in the shoulder, telling Edward he owed him a Coke.

The headstone was a beautiful black marble with a picture of the both of them, smiling brightly, in the center of the stone. On top of the picture read their names in elegant white engraved script. Their birthdays and the day of the deaths on each side respectively.

_Real love stories never have endings__ was scripted underneath the picture._

_It was simple, yet elegant and telling – everything my parents were._

_I placed the flowers in the plastic green sphere holder lodged in front of the headstone. The grass seemed dry enough so I took a seat, crossing my legs and just staring at the picture of my parents in front of me. If I wasn't mistaken, the picture was taken at my tenth birthday in our backyard._

"Rosalie did well," I said out loud. I didn't know if they could hear me, and my faith wasn't even close to where it should be, but I had to talk to them at least one more time. "She was a better daughter to you than I've been in a long time."

"I've done things that no parent could ever be proud of and just a few months ago I would have tried to justify every atrocious act I've ever done with survival – I needed something to eat, or somewhere to sleep, or even a hot shower. Let's be real, though, there are always other ways, right?" I scoffed at every time I thought spreading my legs for some random guy was for my greater good.

"I'm gonna make you proud, though, guys," I assured them. "I have a job now and my boss is amazing. I'm going to get back into my art and maybe I'll have another hit. Wouldn't it be great to finally sell a piece for a million?" I muse. "Yeah, that'll be the day."

I picked a blade of grass, folded it into quarters and began ripping it apart then repeated the process. The repetition helped me think.

"I'm going to see a doctor when I get back to Seattle. I have too much shit in my head to figure out by myself," I confessed. "Look guys," I began seriously, placing both palms flat on the prickling grass, as if they were really sitting in front of me. "I _saw_ you guys at the house the day after the funeral. I could smell your fucking perfume, mom." I shook my head, the feeling of insanity creeping back in. "I was so fucked in the head that I didn't know what was up or down, and sometimes I still think I don't. Help me!" I begged as I began to cry. "Send me a sign or something. Let me know that I'm on the right path, that's there's something still out there for me to fight for."

As if on cue, the wind began to pick up. "Awesome," I mumbled, annoyed at how cliché the gust was. "Trying to be funny, huh mom? I didn't think cosmic jokes were your style…" I was interrupted by a black leather glove crashing into the bottom of my shoe. I looked up to see Edward bending down to pick up his rogue glove.

"Hey," he said apologetically followed by an awkward wave to my parents' headstone. I tried to disguise the smirk on my face caused by his uncertainty. "Just letting you know that we have a few more minutes before we have to start going. I'll just be…at the car…over there…" He backed away gracelessly. I waited until he was far enough away before I turned back to the headstone.

"Was that my sign?" I chuckled. "That has mom written all over it." I shook my head. "I'll be back," I promised, reigning in my amusement. "And when I do I'll be the Bella I once was."

I stood up and took a step toward the stone. I bent down and placed a kiss to the top of the smooth marble. "I love you, guys."

**AN: Thanks for reading, and again I apologize for the long wait. **

**For those of you who contributed to SU4K and received the compilation, I contributed the second chapter of That's What He Said. After I am allowed to post it publically, I will post the rest of the chapters since it is already finished.**

**At this time tomorrow I will be in the theater watching BD2. Woot Woot!**


	25. Chapter 25

**AN: There are a few sentences in the first part of the story that I borrowed from another book. It will be cited at the end. It's a good book and a quick read. I recommend giving it a try.**

**As always, beta'd by SerineinNC. I added a little after I got it back, so mistakes are mine. Then again, the mistakes are ALWAYS mine.**

**All things Twilight belong to SM**

"Please, have a seat wherever you feel most comfortable," Dr. Brash instructed, motioning to the couch and the single seats available. With a polite nod and smile, I sat on the plush blue couch.

"So, let's get started," she began when I was finally settled. "I feel that I should inform you that I do know some things about your past from speaking to Rosalie. Is that going to be a problem for you? I would understand if you decided to seek the help of another doctor."

Dr. Maggie Brash was Rosalie's doctor who she claimed helped her tremendously. When we got back to Forks three weeks ago, I told Rose that I was finally ready to talk to someone. However, before discussing it with her in detail, with the help of the free clinic I looked into doctors that did pro bono work or charged based on income. Apparently, doctors around here didn't volunteer their services. I found a doctor that seemed promising based on location, but I couldn't find any recommendations online. It also didn't help that said doctor was located in an area that I was very familiar with – and not in a good way. However, I wasn't looking for Dr. Phil, just someone educated enough to help me sort my shit out. After spending hours trying to find someone, I was desperate enough not to care if they were even licensed.

When I told Rosalie about my appointment with Dr. Sheen she looked at me like I had six heads. She vehemently refused to let me go, all the while digging through her purse. She had handed me Dr. Brash's card, telling me that she was the best doctor. What was meant to be a caring gesture on Rosalie's part turned into an argument when I told her that not everyone could afford going to see any doctor they chose.

I didn't know that Edward was home, listening to Rosalie and me. He offered to put me on his insurance, but I shrugged him off dismissively, knowing that you couldn't just add someone to a policy for shits and giggles. These people had a false sense of reality; nothing came as easily as they thought it would. However, about a week later Edward slapped a piece of paper on the counter of the bakery while I was working. I grabbed the paper and saw that I was added to Edward's insurance as a dependent. I hated seeing that word, but I wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

That's how I found myself in Dr. Brash's office.

"You won't tell her anything, right?"I asked nervously. "I mean, _I_ might tell her some stuff, she knows most of it anyway, but _I_ want to be the one to tell her things," I explained.

"Absolutely not," Dr. Brash confidently assured me. "Whether we talk about things Rosalie knows or doesn't, nothing we discuss leave these four walls. Can I just suggest one thing, though?" I nodded. "I think that at some point, it might be beneficial for both of you to attend a session, or a few, together. You're both looking for closure, an explanation, that only you can give each other."

"That makes sense," I agreed. "I think it's something we could do together."

"Great," Dr. Brash smiled. "So how about we start at the beginning? What is it that brings you here?"

I took a second to formulate my thoughts. A lot of things brought me to this office today - a lot of things that I truly believed would destroy me if I didn't do something to change the way I behaved or the way I thought.

I began at the beginning.

"My parents died about four years ago and I took it extremely hard, maybe harder than I should have," I started. Before I could continue, the doctor held out her hand, stopping me from saying more.

"I'm going to say this now because I think that the sooner you hear it, the sooner you'll begin to believe it. I don't think it's fair to tell someone how to grieve. Because some people, it takes them a long time to get over it," she said sincerely. "Something like death can't be taken 'too hard'."

"I don't think I'm over it," I admitted. "I want to feel hurt about their death, and I do to some extent, but then it's over ridden by extreme guilt and a lot of the time an overwhelming sadness that I can't shake. I just want everything to be better."

"I won't tell you it gets better; that's not a promise I can make because it's up to you to decide, but I think that just by being here, talking, that you're on your way to finding that peace of mind." She paused a moment, letting me absorb the seriousness of her words. "Why don't you tell me about the relationship you shared with your parents?"

I smiled. Despite how hard their death was, I loved talking about the happy times.

"They were my best friends, aside from Rose, that is. They just…got me. They didn't push me to do something I didn't want to. They sacrificed more than should have been allowed. They weren't perfect, but they were damn near it." I told her anecdote after anecdote, each time reliving the day with perfect recollection in my head.

"Did you remain close to them when you left for college?" she asked.

"We did, but life became more hectic and I began focusing on my art even more. We talked almost every day, but long conversations morphed into quick check-ins."

"Is that why you feel guilty?" she asked, a good question.

"That's where it began, yeah. More than that, though, it wasn't like I was too busy to realize it was happening. I saw it, but convinced myself that it was nothing to worry about; I was busy in school and they had work that kept them occupied. I feel like…if I tried harder things would have been different."

"Different how?"

My eyes began to sting, a lump formed in my throat, and a dull ache was beginning to throb in the front of my head.

"I dunno, maybe they would have been alive?" I said as tears began to fall quickly, leaving wet tracks. "The day I got the phone call I hadn't talked to them since the previous morning. The night before I went to celebrate something, I don't even remember what," I chuckled humorlessly to hide the fact that I was dying inside. It felt like I received that phone call all over again. "Like what if I had called and woke them up? Maybe they would have realized something was wrong and gotten out of the house," I explained. "What if I could have saved them? What if they're dead now because I was too wrapped up in myself?" I asked angrily. My anger at the situation, at myself, was at an all time high. I wanted to scream, curse all deities, and ask why my parents had been taken instead of some child abuser or murderer.

"Or," the doctor cut in, "what if they had a carbon monoxide detector?" she asked, her voice having a smugness that I was probably only imagining.

"Are you saying that it's their fault they died?" I seethed, my heart beating faster and my fists clenched and ready to strike.

"Not at all. What I'm saying is that too many people die from carbon monoxide poisoning every year that could have been prevented; there's a reason they call it a silent killer. What I want you to understand is that you can't blame yourself with the shoulda, coulda, wouldas. What you should do, though, to help you come to grips with their death, is realize that they passed away together and peacefully. They didn't suffer."

I took a few minutes to silently cry and try to accept what Dr. Brash said. It was a valid point, I realized that, but it wasn't helping me in the moment. I wanted things - I wanted me - to be better _now_. I didn't want validity and arguments, or overwhelming emotions. I wanted a magic pill that would allow me to move forward, or maybe backwards. Reason was not what I was after, but what I knew I needed.

"Did Rosalie tell you some of the things I did, like how I ran away?" I asked.

"She told me some things," she answered simply. "I'm sure she doesn't know everything, though.

I nodded, distracted. "Do you think I over reacted, making me beyond redemption?"

"Let me start off saying that if I believed a person was beyond redemption then I'm in the wrong profession, so no, I don't think that about you." She looked at me sternly, wanting to emphasize the words and thoughts she believed. "No one grief is worse than the other. They are all terrible. They all destroy, but you need to find the way to use yours. What would be a travesty is if you allowed yourself to continue to wallow and let yourself be drowned by guilt and self-hate."

"I just want to be normal again," I said, putting it out there.

"Normal by whose definition? Yours or someone else's?" she asked.

"Mine, Rosalie's, Edward's…" I trailed off, not meaning to say his name.

"From what you've told me, you were extremely close with your parents. Is that 'normal' for a teenager or young adult? Some might say no, so I guess by _that_ definition you were never really normal to begin with."

I laughed for real this time. It was another excellent point, but something about it was funny. I think it was because it triggered so many good memories.

"I guess not," I chuckled.

"How about we amend normal to happy? It seems like such a vague term, but if you get to the point where you're legitimately happy, things will fall into place and the healing won't seem so painful or out of reach."

"Sounds doable," I agreed.

"Good," she smiled. "Our time is just about up, but I want you to do something for me. When you go home, make a list as long or short as you'd like, of things that you think make you happy or _would_ make you happy. Bring it to our next session so we can take a look at it. Maybe prioritize it a little. It would be a good starting point."

**xXx**

"So how'd it go?" Angela asked when I walked into the bakery. She gave me Tuesday and Thursday mornings off so I could attend these sessions. Not wanting to lose those hours, I agreed to stay later in the night to help prep for the morning.

"Really good, I think," I replied while tying the apron strings around my waist. "I feel like she could be the one to help me, even though there was a minute where I wanted to rip her throat out. She told me to make a list of the things that either make me happy or things that would make me happy. Seems simple enough, I guess."

"Yeah. So have you started this list already?"

"Eh, kinda. I know that I want to start painting again, but not as just a hobby. I want to get back to where I was in college; asked to have my stuff in shows, be recognized, selling for high prices."

"Well that should be easy, no?" she asked as she carefully poured the flour into the stand mixer.

"Painting is the easy part, but I don't know how to get my name out there again. Before, I was in school and had a mentor that helped me. Now, I have no idea where I should start," I explained.

"You'll figure it out. What about contacting someone from your old school?" she suggested. "They should remember you."

"I guess," I said, shrugging.

For the first time, though, painting didn't feel like enough. It used to be that all I needed were my supplies, a calm work environment, and Rosalie to make me happy. It wasn't like that now. I just knew that I needed more.

"Do you think people need a companion to be happy?" I asked, out of the blue.

She smirked at me before answering. "Why? Do you have a 'companion' in mind?" she teased, nudging me with her elbow.

I rolled my eyes, but didn't answer. "I'm serious, Ang."

"Fine," she sighed. "When you use the word 'companion' I'm assuming you mean boyfriend?" I nodded. "I think they play a part, but you can't base your happiness on him alone. No one wants to be lonely, but you need to learn how to be content when you're alone."

"I've been alone," I mumbled, "long before my parents ever died."

**xXx**

"What do you think about getting married?" I asked Edward the next night. He sputtered the soda he just sipped down his chin, staining his white tee.

"To you?" he responded, wiping away the sticky liquid with the back of his hand, his eyes as wide as saucers.

I meant in general, but I didn't appreciate the manner in which he responded. Was it really that ludicrous that someone would want to marry me?

"Yes, to me, but I didn't mean _you_ and me. Besides…" I trailed off, getting more upset by the second. "I could make a good wife, you know!" I said, more than just slightly offended. "Just because _you_ would never marry someone like me doesn't mean another man wouldn't."

"I didn't say that," Edward responded, his hands help up in surrender. "You just took me off guard."

"Whatever," I rolled my eyes. "Don't mind me; I'm probably getting my period," I lied, not wanting to argue or say anything I'd regret later. The truth, though, was that I hadn't had my period in months. I knew that it was partly due to stress. Lately, Edward was unknowingly adding to that stress.

"Are you still willing to take me shopping to use those gift cards?" I asked, changing the subject.

He didn't hide his relief at the change of subject very well. "Yes, of course! When do you want to go?"

"Friday I guess. I have therapy tomorrow so I have to work late," I reminded him.

"Oh, shit, yeah," he said, widening his arms to match the size of his wide eyes. "How'd your first session go?"

"Um…good, actually. It's only been one session, but I like her so far." I shrugged. "She asked me to list the things that would make me happy," I disclosed to him against my better judgment. It was days like this that had me second guessing whether he truly cared. His carefree attitude hurt me more than I should have let it. The session was yesterday and he was only asking about it now when we had seen each other yesterday.

He was quiet as he narrowed his eyes in concentration. "Wait a second." He paused again. "Is _that_ why you brought up marriage?" he asked accusingly. "You think getting married will make you happy?" he continued, now sounding disbelieving. He was worse than a pregnant lady, shifting from one mood to another.

"Not exactly, but why not? Everyone needs a penguin, right?" I was getting over-emotional, but he was unintentionally hurting my feelings; shooting down my thoughts of what, or who, would make me happy. He did make one thing extremely clear, though – whatever ideas of "us" that he had in Forks did not carry back to Seattle. Not once since we've been back had we talked about a potential relationship.

"What…huh? Who has a penguin and why are you so upset? You can't have a penguin in Washington."

I rubbed my eyes harder than necessary, immediately feeling like an idiot for letting him, of all people, make me feel so…moronic; making me want someone so untouchable. I blamed him, though. _He_ put these notions in my head; _he_ made me think there could be an "us".

Actually, now, I was feeling pissed off the more I thought about it.

"You," I began, stalking toward him and jabbing my finger into his chest. "You could have been my penguin, but you don't want a penguin do you? You want a fucking swan, just not this swan." I was seething and my finger was throbbing.

"What are you talking about? Who wants a swan?" He looked thoroughly confused and maybe somewhat bewildered. I couldn't say I blamed him, though, since I had no idea what I was talking about anymore at that point.

"Nothing. I'm tired; I'll see you in the morning." Without another word, I sulked to my room, wiping away tears before they could fall. Edward had me coming unhinged and if this was the way I was going to feel around him, I needed to rethink who I thought would make me happy.

"Wait a second," he called out. "I have to talk to you about something."

The way he said it – that _he_ had to talk to _me_ about something – I knew that it wasn't the talk I've been waiting to have.

"We'll talk tomorrow," I responded before shutting the door and shutting him out.

**XxX**

"Are you feeling okay?" Dr. Brash asked when I entered her office. "We could have rescheduled if you aren't feeling well."

I felt like crap and I knew I looked like it, too. My hair was a mess and my sweater's hood wasn't hiding it very well. My movements were sluggish and my eyes were tired and heavy.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I got my period overnight and the cramps are kicking my ass this morning."

Go figure!

"Oh. Well…that sucks to say the least," she commented, the sincerity oozing from the statement. Women understood.

"Eh, I'll live…I think," I said, while trying to get comfortable on the couch. The motion from standing to sitting hurt. "Can I kinda stray from the main topic?" I asked. "It's not really random, actually."

"Sure," she answered with a genuine smile.

"Thanks. Okay, so I was thinking about the list I was supposed to make about what would make me happy," I began as Dr. Brash nodded encouragingly. "I think being with someone would make me happy, but then I think that maybe I _shouldn't_ think that way. Like, I should figure the important stuff out before I consider being with someone. On the other hand, though, I've never been one to feel lonely, but now I do. I feel like I'm going through a Maslow crisis," I rambled, giving myself a headache. "I mean, shouldn't I be concerned about being well first?"

Dr. Brash chuckled, her eyes shining with amusement. "Okay, let's consider some things. Are your physiological needs being met? You are eating, sleeping, breathing?" she asked.

"Um…yeah," I answered. I knew it wasn't meant to be, but it felt like a trick question.

"Great. Now, are your safety needs being met? Are you healthy, have a safe place to go to, a job or some kind of income?"

"I have that now, yes."

"Good. Well, the next step according to Maslow is love. From what you've confirmed you're ready to consider that next step."

"What about all my mental issues and things like that?" I found it hard to believe that it was as easy as she just made it seem.

"We haven't gotten to any of that, yet, but personally, I don't think that working on yourself while working on a relationship would be harmful. Let me be clear, though. The person you are interested in should be good for you – healthy. You've got a ways to go before you're going to be at peace with who you are and what you've done, I can tell. It's easy to get caught up in good looks and a charming personality. Hitler was said to be very charismatic. Look beyond the psychical. Let me add also, that there is nothing wrong with taking a relationship slow; become friends, have lengthy conversations, get to know each other without the intimacy."

She made sense - a lot of sense, actually. Edward and I were friends, I think. We talked, sometimes. I knew him, kind of. He wasn't just looks, though he was more beautiful than any man had the right to be. He was charming when he wasn't being an asshole.

"One more thing," Dr. Brash added, "Maslow's Hierarchy? I know it quite well. I did a dissertation on it, actually. The highest level you can possibly obtain is self-actualizationa lack of prejudice and not only understanding your full potential, but mastering it, and not many people truly reach it. People like Gandhi and Mother Theresa got there. Don't live your life by others' standards. Do what makes you happy as long as it's safe and healthy. Food for thought."

"Okay, but what if that person is so much better than you? Like they have a better station in life?" I was looking for reasons to support my own, possibly false, realization that Edward no longer wanted to pursue a relationship with me. Or maybe even that it was a good idea that we didn't even really consider it in the first place.

"Bernie Madoff had a pretty great station in life," she countered. I looked at her questioningly, not really sure who or what she was talking about. "Bernie Madoff was a stocker broker, investment banker…you get the drift." I nodded. "A few years ago he admitted to running the largest Ponzi scheme. He was a wealthy guy, but ask everyone he defrauded and they'd tell you that, frankly, he's an asshole. Someone's station in life doesn't define the type of person they are."

"No, I guess not, but how can I ignore such an obvious difference?"

"Since therapy is give and take, let me share something with you. My career choice and success has afforded me the ability to live comfortably, drive some luxury cars of my choosing, and allow me to vacation once a year. My receptionist out there?" she said, pointing to the door with her pen. "Drives a Ford POS and lives in a studio apartment. She's my fiancé and best friend."

My jaw hit the floor, hard, and my eyes bulged, wide enough to compete with cartoons. I tried to form a sentence, a thought, but nothing came.

Dr. Brash began laughing as I continued to sit in stunned silence. "Shocked I take it?"

"Um, yeah!" I took another few seconds to wrap my mind around what she just revealed. She could have talked until she was blue in the face about how two people, different economic statuses, could be together and how one was no better than the other, but it wouldn't have done much to change my mind. However, knowing that it could happen because there was proof in front of my face was a different story.

It was like…Pretty Woman, when Vivian asked Kit who does it happen to, referring to a happily ever after. I still believed it only happened to Cinderella, too, never having known anyone in my position to come out on top. While Dr. Brash and her receptionist/fiancé didn't have the story Edward and I have, it was still very encouraging to know that there were still people out there who looked beyond money and social status and looked at a person for who they were.

"Why don't you live together or help her buy a better car or something?" I asked, finally beginning to pull my thoughts together.

"Don't you think I've tried?" she laughed. "That one out there is a stubborn one, too independent to accept monetary gifts. She just agreed to move in with me as long as I allowed her to pay half the bills."

Her fiancé, Allison I think I saw on her name plate, sounded a little like me – not wanting to accept help even though it was probably needed.

"Stupid question, but do you love her?" I asked Dr. Brash. I already knew, it was evident by the look in her eyes and the smile on her face when she talked about Allison.

"This probably won't sound appropriate coming from a therapist, but I love her more than my own life. She is my life. This," she said, motioning around the room, "could be gone tomorrow, along with everything else, and that lady outside would still be with me, moving my boxes into her crappy little apartment."

I liked Dr. Brash. I liked her a lot. She made me believe that what I wanted, be it with Edward or not, was more than possible.

Tonight. Tonight I would pull Edward aside and have the talk with him about us. Tonight would be when I found out if there _would_ be an "us."

**AN: We'll have **_**the talk**_** next chapter.**

**There were a few reviews that I didn't reply to (aside from the guest review that I **_**couldn't**_** reply to), and I apologize. There were some that I saved so I would reply later, but didn't. I will reply to those despite in being from a previous chapter.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**McHenry, Jael. **_**The Kitchen Daughter: A Novel**_**. New York: Gallery, 2011. Print.**


	26. Outtake from Fandom 4 the Homeless

**Outtake Summary****: Dream sequence that Edward alluded to at the end of chapter 20. ****Outtake submitted to Fandom for the Homeless.**

**AN: Outtake/story beta'd by SerineinNC. The banner posted on my FB for this outtake was done by the very talented Mkystich.**

**I'm posting this now to give myself more time to work on the next chapter, but not have you's wait so long for an update. Consider it a bribe! If things in this outtake seem outlandish or far-fetched remember that it's just a dream.**

**All things Twilight belong to SM. **

That was the first night I dreamt of Bella.

.

.

.

Bella asked me to pick her up at eight on the dot and it was now ten minutes after and I just wanted to get home.

It had been snowing on and off all day and the roads weren't plowed. A late season storm was predicted with snow falling heavily overnight. I had gotten off of work not even half an hour ago, so needless to say I wanted to go home. It was rare that Bella actually asked me to pick her up, so on the occasion that she did, like today, I couldn't refuse her.

After several failed attempts of not only calling the bakery's phone number, but hers as well, I decided to see what was taking her so long. I knocked on the door while calling out for Bella and Angela, but no one came. Because I doubted the door would be unlocked, I didn't immediately try it. However, I was not only surprised, but also startled when the knob turned easily.

Once I was completely inside, and securely locked the door, I paused my movements and listened. I could feel my heart begin to race when I was met with nothing but silence. Bella and Angela were supposed to be here!

I finally breathed a sigh of relief when I heard Bella singing, or trying to, in the kitchen. The closer I got the hotter it became and I could only rationalize that something was probably baking in the oven. I was not ready for the sight that greeted me when I opened the swinging door.

With her ear buds cozy in her ears and her back to me, I was able to safely stare. The room was incredibly hot. In front of me, Bella stood in nothing but a white wife beater allowing her red bra to be easily visible. When she left the apartment this morning she was wearing a soft pink sweater and her hair was in a neat ponytail, but now it was in a messy bun on top of her head.

I could see the thick drops of sweat that gathered around her neck and shoulders. I could faintly make out the flush of her skin as the sweat made it glisten. Despite her current state, she had never appealed to me more.

I walked slowly to her, careful not to make much noise. When I pulled a bud out of her ear she only jumped slightly.

"There are crazy people in this world, Isabella, for you to be carelessly leaving the door unlocked," I said, pressing my body against hers and whispering in her ear. "People who wouldn't think twice before taking advantage of beautiful women." I ran a finger down her neck to emphasize my words. I saw her chest rise and fall before she closed her eyes.

"That was Angela," she said, after calming her racing heart. With my body so close I could feel the erratic beats. "Ben locked his cars keys in the car and she had the spare in her purse. She was in a hurry so she must have forgotten."

I stepped back, pleased with the reaction I was able to get from her, and studied the contents she was working with. In the bowl in front of her, there was some kind of frosting mix that looked light and fluffy.

"So what happened? You said to be here at eight," I asked.

"I know, and I'm sorry I forgot to call. When Angela got the call we were in the middle of something and I just completely forgot. I wouldn't have been able to leave anyway since she hasn't come back yet," she explained.

I was a little annoyed with Angela.

"So what are you working on?" I asked while leaning against the table.

"I took a cake out of the oven, just before you came in, to cool so it can be frosted," she said, pointing to the bowl that was filled with a tan colored cream. She scraped the top of the metal bowl with her finger. "Tell me what it tastes like," she said, in a sudden smoky voice. Before I could agree or disagree, she grabbed my jaw and stuck her frosting covered finger in my mouth. I sucked on it harder than was necessary to actually lick it clean. I didn't know what excited me more – the delicious frosting or having Bella's finger in my mouth.

Bella slowly extracted her finger, making sure it scraped my teeth and tongue along the way. Before she pulled it away completely, I covered the tip of her finger with my lips.

"It's good, right?" That was a loaded question!

"It is," I answered. "Tasted… nutty, maybe? Slightly salty," I added, referring to her skin.

She gave me a knowing, devious smile. "Very good. It's sweetened almond." She paused for a second. "How good is your palate?"

"Decent, I guess. I can obviously decipher sweet from salty or tangy," I said, smirking back. I didn't know where she was going with this, but I was down for the ride.

"Alright. Stay here for a second," she commanded. I nodded and saw her walk towards what seemed like a supply closet. She grabbed something and quickly tucked it into the front pocket.

"Close your eyes," she said when she was standing in front of me. Skeptically, I closed my eyes. I heard the rustling of fabric then felt Bella place a blindfold on me.

"What are you doing with a blindfold in a bakery?" I asked, slightly afraid of the answer. If Angela and Ben were getting down on the surfaces around me, I really didn't want to know.

"We do exactly what I plan on doing with you," she said, before bending down to whisper in my ear. "Well…not exactly." Her voice was husky in my ear and I could practically feel my blood flowing south. Without my sight, my other senses seemed heightened. I could smell the fruitiness on her breath and feel her quickened heartbeats.

"And what, exactly, are we doing?" My voice took on its own huskiness with a hint of rasp that I've never heard come out of my mouth.

"We're testing your palate," she answered vaguely. "Now when I hold something to your lips, I want you to taste it, but don't worry – everything is edible."

"_Should_ I be worried?" I asked, only half serious.

"Yes," she said, her sweet breath fanning across my face. "Because I can guarantee you won't want me to stop."

I jolted in my seat as she grazed my erection with her hand, which I doubt was an accident.

"We'll start easy. Here." She brought her finger to my lips and I could easily smell what covered it. Not needing to taste it to know what it was, but doing it anyway, I sucked the frosting from her finger, making sure my teeth scraped along it again as she removed it.

"That's the sweet almond," I answered confidently.

"Very good. Here." From the smell alone, I could tell it was some kind of fruit, but more importantly, Bella was about to put her finger in my mouth again.

It was a jelly or jam this time; I didn't really know the difference between the two. The taste was stronger and recognizable, mainly because I wasn't a very big fan. "Raspberry," I answered, failing to hide my displeasure.

"Didn't like that, huh?" Bella laughed. "Sorry." The room was silent for a few seconds before she spoke again. "You think you could handle taking it up a notch?" she asked, her voice taking on a false innocence.

"As long as it doesn't involve raspberries or honeydew melon, I'm game."

"Duly noted. Don't move," she whispered in my ear.

Despite the horrid taste of raspberry still lingering on my tongue, I was practically salivating.

I could hear Bella moving across the floor and then the sound of suction – the sound of the fridge or cooler opening. I could feel Bella in front of me when she returned, even though I couldn't see her.

"Open up," she instructed and I diligently obeyed. She placed something on my out-stretched tongue. Upping the game myself, I wrapped my lips around the two fingers that held the mystery object and lightly sucked before she could completely pull them away.

"You don't play fair," she teased in playful voice.

"Just don't want any flavor to escape."

The object was cut oddly, but at least I knew it was some kind of fruit based on the seeds I felt coating the outside. However, once I bit into the cut fruit, I could taste the sweet and tangy juice. "Strawberry."

"I would say you're good at this, but really, I haven't even pushed your limits," she replied, her baritone voice returning. "Open."

I opened my mouth again, but not before throwing a smug smirk her way. I was ready for whatever she was going to feed me. I was startled when I felt two hands grab the back of my hair. She held on tightly before she lowered her face to mine. Before I even registered what was happening, I could taste and feel Bella's tongue on mine; her cake-sweetened breath mixed with this new flavor that reminded me of warm pancakes and bacon.

Going on pure instincts, I grabbed the back of Bella's neck, bringing her even closer, placing her right on my lap. As she straddled me, my erection became wedged between us. If I had any doubt that she felt it before, it all flew out the window when she removed a hand from my head and began rubbing me on top of my scrubs. I was able to drown out her moan with my own, which sounded too needy and high pitched. It had been too long since I'd been touched by a hand not my own. I even tried Emmett's trick of sitting on my inferior hand until it was numb, and then using it to jack off. He claimed that he would feel like it was someone else's hand, making it so much better.

Yeah…not really.

Bella broke the kiss before I could really get in to it.

"Maple syrup," I panted.

"Good job," she whispered in my ear. "And because you managed to keep your blindfold on, I have one last treat for you to taste."

She began shimming while still seated on my lap, grinding herself onto my erection more than once. It felt so good, but I wasn't a fifteen year old boy – blowing a load in my pants was not an option.

With the blindfold still on I couldn't see anything in front of me, but my hearing was more acute. I could have sworn I heard Bella either moaning or whimpering – maybe both? Either way, I could hammer a nail with how hard I was.

I tried stilling her by holding onto her waist, but it was to no avail. It was like she was a woman on a mission. It could have been seconds or minutes, but it felt like hours until she finally stopped. I let out a sigh of relief when she finally stopped squirming and I was able to maintain my dignity.

"Are you ready for the final taste test?" she asked.

"Uh huh," I replied dumbly, all of the vocabulary words I memorized for my SATs flying out the window.

"I got a present for you if you get this right."

With that, she shoved two fingers in my mouth. I knew that taste. It was familiar, but still completely and uniquely Bella. It was slightly salty, had a mild tang, and I could smell the faint citrus smell of her body wash as she placed her fingers in my mouth.

I sucked on those two fingers like I was a starving man. It was better than I ever dreamt of…and I have imagined this taste before.

Bella yanked her fingers from my mouth, only to grab my face once again. The kiss this time was more frantic – our teeth knocking together more than once.

The blindfold that I previously thought was a little…kinky… was now just pissing me off now. I swiped it off of my face like it was the most offensive thing on the world. I needed to see Bella; to know that she was just as worked up. However, it was hard to tell since it was like our faces were glued together.

Bella pulled away only to began trailing kisses up and down my neck. When she made her way to my ear, she took my lobe in her mouth before speaking.

"What was that, Edward?" she asked before nibbling on my ear again.

"I'm not 100% sure," I lied. "I think I need to taste it again," I said before I shot up from my seat, holding her while she had her legs wrapped around my waist. I switched our positions – I towered over her as she sat. I got down on my knees, ready to pray to her pussy.

Without needing her help, I was able to unbutton and remove her pants and underwear. The force with which I removed both items caused Bella to slide down the chair, saving me from having to do it myself.

Bella was completely shaven except for…

"Are those my initials?" I asked, completely in awe. I traced the 'E C' pattern of her pubic hair.

"Mmmhmm," she moaned. "Touch me…do something," she pleaded as she latched onto the sides of her seat, her knuckles taking on a deathly white.

Smirking up at her, I used the finger that I traced the letters with and slowly traveled down between her wet crevices, spending a frustratingly short amount of time on her clit – she groaned in protest when she realized I was not stopping there. I continued up and down with my one finger at an achingly slow pace.

"Should I kiss these lips, Bella?" I asked right before glancing up at her. She stared back at me with fire in her eyes.

"Yes! Yes, please…do it," she panted. She was already so worked up from my teasing touches.

With a wink up at her, I lowered my head and positioned it between her legs. Flattening my tongue, I licked from bottom to top. I sucked lightly on her clit when I reached it, but let it go almost immediately.

"Fuck," she protested in a whiney moan type of way. She sounded petulant.

I let my hands travel up her body, fondling every part possible until I reached her breast. When I found the treasure that was most certainly buried under too much fabric for my liking, I dug my tongue deeper, plunging in and out while lightly biting on her folds.

With my free hand, I used two fingers to spread her open wider, needing to taste the areas inside of her that weren't so readily accessible.

She tasted like the orange scented body wash that she used.

Orange juice was always my favorite.

While I was busy exploring uncharted territory, Bella pushed my hand away from her tit, lowered both the tank top and bra, and unceremoniously placed my hand where it had been seconds before. My tongue continued its dance between her lower lips as my hand began tweaking the soft flesh of her nipple.

I brought my head up just slightly so I could focus on the area that I knew she wanted me at the most.

I swirled my tongue in erratic circles on her clit, as she wasn't making it easy with all her writhing. I switched over to sucking, changing it up from time to time to light nibbling. The hand that was previously spreading her open was now pumping in and out of her. With the amount of moisture she was secreting, my fingers felt more like they were gliding.

I moaned as the citrus taste was becoming pleasingly overwhelming, which only served to turn Bella on even more. Before I knew what was happening, Bella sat straight up and moved forward. Both her hands held on painfully to my hair, ensuring that escape was futile – not that I was planning on it.

"Fuck…shit…shit," Bella panted heavily as I continued to pump and suck. "Yeah…like that," she said as she grinded my face into her very hot and very wet pussy.

Using the minute space I was given, I brought my head back to blow on her sensitive and swollen clit. The air sent a new wave as the heady orange scent, invited me to reattach my lips to hers.

"I'm there…I'm there," she repeated, which served as a warning that she was close to climaxing.

My fingers picked up speed and force while my teeth played more of a major role on her clit in efforts to get her 'there'.

I would have liked to say that I was aware that Bella was coming because I could taste her on my tongue, but that wasn't the case. I knew she was coming when her knees and thighs became a death trap, squeezing my head so hard that my ears began to ring as she held my face impossibly close to her body. In a sense, she was riding my face.

"Uhhh," she screamed as she shimmied in her seat. I let her ride out her orgasm until I could no longer tolerate the air constriction.

"That…was great," she panted, while trying to calm her breathing.

With my thumb and pointer finger, I wiped away her lingering juices. "Thanks. You taste good," I said, smirking up at her from my place on the floor.

"Your turn." In what might be considered vampiric speed, if they really were as fast as novels claim, Bella had me flat on the floor. With very little help from me, she was able to lower my scrubs down to me knees.

She wasted no time in taking my full length in her mouth. She went deeper than I thought any woman could go. The few times I felt myself hitting the back of her throat, I thought I was done for.

In a move I had only witnessed in porn, she hollowed out her cheeks and began sucking me off at a ninety degree angle. I could see the outline of my cock as it jabbed her cheek.

Unintentionally, I grabbed her hair roughly, easing my grip when I realized my gaffe, but still keeping a steady grip. Not as forcefully as she had done to me, I began guiding her, setting the speed in which I needed her to work at.

She complied easily, adding the moaning and gurgling sounds that intensified the whole experience. More than once, she retracted my cock from her mouth, the two attached only by the saliva that pooled in her mouth and stretched. The sight only spurred me on to make her go faster.

"Shit, baby…right there," I warned her after a few more minutes.

She reached out, pulling and squeezing my balls, causing me to grip her hair tighter in hopes that she would go faster and suck harder.

I could faintly hear an alarm in the background as I inched closer to spilling my seed into her mouth. If I wasn't so desperate for this release, I would have been more concerned about a possible fire somewhere close. All I needed was a minute; just a few more seconds and I would be done.

Without warning, Bella released my cock, making me want to scream out in desperation, anger, and grief. Thankfully, though, she began pumping me with her hand. She climbed up my body, resting on top of me when her head reached my shoulders.

She continued to jerk me up and down while trailing kisses along my shoulder and neck, reaching up to my ear.

"Edward," she called in her breathy voice. I was too far into feeling her moving hand on my slick cock to acknowledge she said anything.

"Edward," she repeated, her hand moving faster.

"Edward." This time I managed out some kind of grunt, knowing that I was three more hand pumps before blowing my load.

The faint alarm I heard before became a hard pounding sound.

"Edward," Bella said more forcefully.

.

.

.

"Edward," Bella said loudly, while knocking on the door. "Are you okay in there?"

I woke with a start. As I went to raise my arm to rub my face, it grazed along a wet, sticky substance on my stomach.

"What the fuck?" I mumbled while turning off the alarm that was becoming increasingly annoying.

"Edward? Are you okay?" Bella called again.

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry. I'm up," I finally answered.

"Okay. I just wanted to make sure. You're alarm has been going off for a few minutes already. I'll go make some coffee."

After I heard her footsteps to make sure she was no longer behind the door, I looked down to confirm what I already knew.

I had a wet dream about Bella.


	27. Chapter 27

**AN: Hope everyone is having a good New Year so far. I can't complain…yet. ;)**

**A quick side note, if you've read my o/s, That's What He Said, it has now been expanded into a short story. It's basically completed, except for an epilogue that I will be adding. If you haven't read the o/s, I highly recommend it. It's a rom-com, with extremely non-cannon B/E. It's actually my favorite story that I've written, so check it out. So yeah…**

**My beta has been super busy so this chapter is being posted unbeta'd and will be reposted when I get the beta'd version back. I tried catching all my mistakes, but I already know I missed a few. It happens.**

I had texted Edward during my lunch break, _telling_ him we needed to talk. This discussion was long overdue and I wasn't taking no for an answer. It wasn't as if I was asking him to declare his undying love for me or anything. I just wanted to know where we stood. If he had a change of heart, then as much as it would suck, I would accept it. Not knowing was much worse.

Unfortunately, an hour before he was scheduled to leave the hospital, he called and said he was waiting for an ambulance to transport a gunshot victim. Of course, Edward was the only available surgeon.

Grabbing a sketch pad and a soft pastels set I brought from the house in Forks, I idly wondered if it was someone I knew. If by chance it was, was it someone really worth saving? Obviously, violence of any kind, whether caused by weapons or hands, no longer fazed me. Gunshot wounds happened every day on the streets; it was just rare that victims reported it or actually got treated before they succumbed to the wound. Luckily, it had never happened to me.

My hand glided and arched and swished across the page. I grabbed colors without much thought, as I considered people worth saving. Peter was someone I would definitely let die on the operating table. He served no purpose in this world. I'd definitely save Marcus without a second thought, but I hoped that wherever he was now, he was happy and safe. James? Umm…probably not; I'd let him live. He was an asshole, douche bag, but he was never malicious, just an opportunist at its worst. Eric Yorkie? No. I wouldn't let him die on the operating table, either. I'd save him, watch over his bedside, and kill him myself when he was at full health.

"That's…kind of disturbing," a voice said from behind me, scaring the ever loving shit out of me. I recognized Edward's voice immediately, but too startled to acknowledge him right away. "What the hell is going through your mind right now?"

I focused back on the page in front of me. It didn't do it very often, but there were times I would draw, stream-of-consciousness, without thinking; letting my hand move freely. Nothing brilliant ever emerged from it, but it did help clear my head. However, what my eyes saw in front of me was nothing I had ever set out to draw. A black shadow loomed over a body that was lying on a concrete slab in its own pool of blood as decrepit fingers reached around the lifeless man's ankles and neck.

"How'd the surgery go?" I asked instead, ignoring his inquiry about the drawing.

"Smooth, thankfully." Whether it was because he thought I couldn't handle the details or I just wouldn't understand what he was explaining, Edward never went into detail about his work. After I while, I just stopped asking.

"Let me get changed and then we'll talk. Sound good?" he asked as he removed his suit jacket. I nodded in the affirmative.

As he went to his room to change, I took another look at the drawing. It _was_ a little disturbing. Not in the horrific, gore way, but in a too realistic way. Upon a closer inspection, the bloodied man looked familiar. His hair was black, slicked back with strands falling out of place around his face. His eyes, too, were a deadly black, but the shape was akin to something I'd seen before. His face had a sneer that seemed permanently placed, even in death. I knew this man. I only met him once, but it was one time too many.

"I don't know if you ate or not, but I ordered some Chinese. I'm starving." Edward tossed the phone on the couch before taking a seat.

"I could eat," I shrugged, placing the now eerie drawing on the coffee table. Edward's eyes followed and stayed on the pad longer than made me comfortable.

If he only knew who he was looking at!

"So do you want to talk now or wait until we eat?" he offered.

"Umm…let's just do it now. If we wait I'll lose my nerve or I'll be too nervous to eat, anyway."

"Alright. Well, I have to talk to you about something, too, but you go first," he said.

With a deep breath, a quick mental pep talk, and zero confidence I began. "Look…here's the thing." I was going to dive right in, take the bull by the horns, and everything else that told me to just do it already. "I thought that maybe we had something going…er…" Already I was starting off on the wrong foot. The words were coming out wrong, making it seem that there was definitely something – feelings – between us. For all I knew, it was a fleeting thing for him.

With another deep breath, I started again. "I just thought that we were going to talk about us when we got back from Forks. It's been a while already and we haven't addressed it, yet. I'll understand if you don't feel the same anymore," I assured him, "but I would just like an idea of where you stand." It came out a lot more fluidly than I thought it would. In my own ears I sounded sure of myself, calm even, despite being a wreck inside.

"I know, Bella, but I've been so busy since we got back and…" I lifted my palm, cutting him off. He had used the excuse of stress and all that bullshit before and it was a lie back then. More likely than not, it was a lie now, too.

"I know you're a busy guy, but give me a little credit here. Trust me when I say I know rejection and how to handle it. If this is the brush off don't make it worse, because it's already going to be awkward."

"Can you let me finish?" he asked, irritation cutting through. I sighed impatiently, but motioned for him to go on. "As I was saying, I've been really busy and it's actually something I needed to talk to you about. Do you remember that grant proposal I was working on when we first met?"

"Vaguely," I answered in a bored tone. I actually knew it very well. I would listen to him as he read it out loud to himself. There was a lot of medical and business jargon I wasn't familiar with. The gist of it, though, was that Edward was asking for a grant to renovate, or rather expand, the pediatric ward. According to him, the pediatric ward was too depressing, therefore slowing down the healing time of the patients. Moreover, Edward argued that if the ward was revamped and expended, it would bring in more patients, thus bringing more capital into the hospital. He explained to me that on paper it sounded callous – the business side of the hospital taking priority over the children, but that's the way it needed to be if he were to have a chance at this grant. However, the passion in which he spoke freely about it told me that Edward really did care about the children. I couldn't say that I was surprised, though. I'd seen him with Isabel and it was nothing short of heart warming.

"So anyway, I received a call the morning we left to Forks. I got it, Bella! We got the grant!" He was excited and maybe even relieved, as if he just revealed a secret that he'd been dying to tell someone. Despite my annoyance the seemingly change of subject, I couldn't help but be just as ecstatic as he was.

"Oh my God! That's great!" I ran to him, hugging him tightly. I was probably way too proud of him than I should have been, but I knew this was something that he wanted badly.

"Why didn't you say anything?" I asked when we finally let go of each other. I didn't escape my notice that he hugged me back just as tightly, or even more so. I wasn't dumb enough to look at it than more than just his excitement taking hold of him. At least not yet.

"It was your weekend." He shrugged. "I know you weren't asking for attention, but I still wanted you to be the main focus so I didn't want to bring it up. I emailed my boss, thanking him for the information, but said I had to be out of town for the weekend and that we'd talk about it on Monday."

All the annoyance I had felt before disappeared. Granted, he still hadn't explained why the talk was put off for so long, I appreciated him putting me first that weekend, though now I felt guilty.

"Thanks," I choked out. "I'm sorry that you couldn't bask in your glory when you found out. I know you worked really hard on that proposal."

"Eh. It was still there when we got back, so no worries. Anyway, when I got back on Monday I was basically rushed into a meeting with the board about the grant. One of the stipulations of the grant was that the project had to begin immediately. Since that meeting over a month ago, all my free time, and I mean _all_ of it, has been devoted to getting the project started. I was making calls in between surgeries, going in early and leaving late to do research on different companies that I thought would be good fit for the job, going over bids. It's not like I'm doing this on my own, but I never expected to hear back so soon so none of us were prepared. Plus, the hospital wants the ward done sooner than later so it feels like a rush job with all of us doing more than our fair share."

Well, didn't I feel like a complete asshole? I was just as bad as the people I used to encounter everyday on the streets. I thought the worse of Edward without giving him the opportunity to explain. As I sat there thinking about it, I could recall all the late nights I heard his feet padding across the floor, wondering about the apartment, and there was the perpetual stressed look on his face. Also, he declined to go out with Emmett and Jasper the few times they had invited him out.

"This is what I have to actually talk to you about," Edward continued. "I wanted to ask if you would volunteer your services to the hospital."

"Sure," I agreed although I was slightly confused. "I don't know that much about caring for sick kids, but I can try. I'll just have to coordinate everything with my sessions and the bakery, but I'm sure I can make it work." I had already began figuring out times and dates in my head when I heard Edward chuckle nervously. "What?" I asked, my own voice sounding nervously amused.

"I didn't mean I wanted you to play nurse, Bella." He stopped talking and began running his fingers through his hair. "I'm asking if you'd be willing to paints some murals on a few of the walls. Basically, make the place look like it's somewhere where kids and parents feel welcome." He was uneasy, fidgety, and utterly adorable.

"Why do you look so scared?" I chuckled.

"Well…I mean…I've seen the caliber of your work and, now, know of your underground success, if you want to call it that. I don't know if my request comes off as insulting, and like I said, this would be volunteer work so…"

"So you think I'd say no?" I asked for clarification.

"I don't know. Maybe," he admitted sheepishly.

"We must not know me very well then," I joked. "I never turn down volunteer work. Besides, I think you're making me out to be more acclaimed than I really am. You're wrong, but it's still flattering."

"Wait! So you'll do it?" he asked, his eyes wide and full of unadulterated glee.

"Oh course! I'll need some info, though. Like, do I have free reign or is there something already in place? When do I start and how long do I have?" I rattled off some of the hundreds of questions I had.

"You won't have to start for another three weeks and I believe you have additional three to four weeks to finish, but I'm not sure about that so I'll have to get back to you. As far as creative license is concerned, I believe you have semi free reign. Everything as to be approved before you get the go ahead."

"What about supplies?" I asked. It was actually a fairly important question.

"That's probably the only thing the hospital will reimburse you for."

"I'm not worried about that," I said, waving my hand in dismissal. The cogs in my head already began turning with different ideas that I could present to whoever had the final say so.

"Bella…Bella…" I heard Edward call, dragging me out of my thoughts. He shook his head in amusement when I finally was paying him attention. "You have no idea how glad I am that you're doing this for me – the hospital."

"Anyway to help the kids," I said, smiling over-enthusiastically. Edwards smiled, a second later becoming serious.

"So, um…I just want you to know that I haven't forgotten about us, but I wanted to do it when I could focus more time on it. I didn't think it would be fair to either of us if we agreed to give a relationship a chance only to have each other pulled in different directions," he began.

"Do you still want to?" I asked, insecurity flaring back up. "Like I said, if you don't want to I'll understand. It'll suck, but I'll understand."

"No, I still do," he answered simply.

"Okay," I replied slowly. "Does it mean that's it's a better time now?"

"It's not great, but it's better than when we got back from Forks. I don't want you to keep thinking that I was playing with your head, either."

"No, no. I get it now," I assured him.

"And also, I just want to say that I'm really proud of you for talking to someone. I haven't been very supportive since you started and for that I apologize. Things are more or less lined up to start this project so I won't be overly busy like I have been. If you want, we can try going out on a date and see how that goes; take it from there?" He sounded unsure of himself and completely vulnerable and I think that's when I liked him best.

"Yeah?" I murmured, feeling like an inexperienced teenager all over again.

"Of course. How about Sunday since we're both off?" he inquired.

"On one condition," I added, as if I actually had the right to add a stipulation. "Please don't take me to an art museum or gallery.

"Aww, shucks." He pouted and snapped his fingers dramatically. "Seriously, though, I have an idea of what we can do. I think you'll like it."

"Really?"

"Mmhmm. It'll be fun."

The food arrived just minutes later. After platting the food, Edward put on Rent, my absolutely favorite muscial. Getting comfortable on the couch, I sat a little closer to him than I normally would have. I was feeling brave and maybe a little hopeful that he would wrap his arm around me after he was done eating. Maybe it was too soon for that, but it was still a nice thought.

He never did put his arm around me, but he rested his arm behind me on the couch, absentmindedly playing with the end of my hair while watching the movie. It was juvenile, but it still made me giddy with hope again. I never sat so still during a movie, in fear that any movement would make him realize what he was doing and stop.

Forty minutes later, we stood up and stretched the kinks out. I wasn't ready for the night to end, but apparently he was.

"I have some paperwork that I need to finish up tonight." He took a step closer and placed a kiss on my forehead. "We'll talk more tomorrow." He smiled at me, almost shyly, before grabbing our plates.

"Leave it; I'll clean up. Finish what you gotta do," I instructed.

"Thanks."

After cleaning up and making sure nothing was out of place, I noticed the sketch pad still on the coffee table. It was a reminder that I really didn't need, but I couldn't bring myself to throw it way or destroy it. I was beyond that – him- though. I had to learn to keep things in my past exactly there. I was more than ready to move on.

Too bad my heart and head weren't on the same page.

**XxX**

"What do you think that means?" I asked Dr. Brash at our next session. I threw the sketch pad on the coffee table that separated us.

She picked up, glancing at it for a few seconds. "Who's this supposed to be?"

"Eric," I answered, as if I were discussing just any other man. I also knew I didn't need to explain who he was. She knew about the rape.

She put the pad back down, pursing her lips while staring at me. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"What's there to talk about?" I shrugged. "It happened, it sucked but served as a wakeup call, and it's time to move on." She continued staring at me, her lips in a pucker. "What?" I snapped when the staring became uncomfortable.

"Frankly, Bella, I'm a little concerned about the nonchalance in which you approach the matter."

"Meh. It happens," I retorted, looking at everything but her. "Besides, what's the point of dwelling on it when I can't change what happened and it was my fault to begin with?"

"No, Bella, it doesn't _happen_," she responded in a strong tone that demanded my attention. "And the only one to blame is the rapist."

"Maybe usually, but not in my case," I argued.

"What makes you the exception?" she countered.

"I put myself in that danger. I felt it in my gut that it was wrong, but I still went," I answered with a feigned calmness. It pissed me off that she was arguing with me on this. I was right and I knew I was right.

"This happened to you before," she stated. I shrugged; she already knew the answer. "Were the other times you're fault, too?"

In same way or another they were. Peter had caught me off guard, rendering my unable to defend myself. Had I slept in the concealed spot at St. Mark's church instead of the shelter, it would have never happened.

She continued when I didn't answer. "Regardless, this time was different. Why? Why are you beating yourself up over this one and not the other?"

I shrugged once again, refusing to answer. It was suddenly hard to swallow.

"Do you think that you're a self-saboteur?" she asked suddenly.

"What?" I huffed. "No."

"I think I'm right," she countered.

"That's fine if you do," I said, feigning nonchalance, "but I'm not. If anything, it was the exact opposite – I was trying to get ahead; shatter the glass ceiling and all that," I answered sarcastically.

"Okay, so it was a failed attempt that went horribly wrong, but it wasn't something that never happened to you before. So I'll ask you again, why was that time different?"

"It wasn't different," I clarified. "The people around me were different."

"Meaning…?" she hedged.

"I dunno." I stalled for a bit, feeling stupid about my explanation, but it was the only one I had. However, if anyone would understand, it would probably be her. "It's like…aside from Rosalie, Edward and his family were really supportive in their own way. We didn't talk much or anything, but they didn't look at me like I was some kind of pariah. I think it had a lot to do with Rosalie being their family, but still. Sure, I had a rocky start with both Edward and his brother, Rose's husband, but we managed to get past it."

Had someone told me when Emmett and I first met, that we would have the relationship we have today, I wouldn't even amuse them with a reply. Emmett and I weren't best friends, but compared to where we were, we were in a good place. I think that was mutual respect. Or at least, I respected the hell out of him.

"Did you not have some kind of support system before them?"

"In a way, but it was different. Jane was my support system, but the support she provided was different."

"How so?"

"Jane didn't tell me to _not_ to do; she told to be careful _while_ doing it. She knew what it was like and I don't think that she would have stopped me if she were alive. She would have understood."

"Correct me if I'm wrong," she began, "but from what you've told me about Jane, she cared a great deal for you, yes?" I nodded. "So if she truly cared about your well being, I believe that she would have tried to stop you as well. You had a roof over your head, food in your stomach, and people that cared about you in some form or another. Why would Jane want you to jeopardize that?"

She wouldn't. Jane may have had her vices, which caught up with her in the end, but she was a great person. On the streets she was fearless and smart – able to take care of herself better than a lot of people I had seen come and go. Her problem was that once she was high, everything else disappeared – she was in a world of nothingness and peace, instead of violence and theft. If she had given herself the opportunity to get her shit together, I knew that she would have thrived as a productive member of society.

"Can we change the subject?" I asked, needing a break from the topic of Jane. Apparently, the pain of the death of one of my best friends was still too raw.

"Sure," she said sympathetically. "To anything in particular?"

"That," I answered, pointing again to the drawing on the coffee table. "What do you think it means?"

"Why don't you tell me – you're the artist."

I rolled my eyes, but thought about it anyway. "Do you think I should go to the police?" It wasn't a question that I had intended to ask. It just slipped out.

"Well, as your therapist, I would say yes. I'll warn you that it would be more than a bumpy ride to see that justice is served, but not only would it give you closure, it would make sure that he doesn't do something like this to anyone else. However, as a friend and fellow woman, I say hell yes, turn that asshole in!"

She was deadly serious but it made me crack up. She began pursing her lips, fighting the smile that was coming. Seconds later, she was laughing right along with me. I took a few seconds to calm myself before asking her a pivotal favor.

"So, um…_if_ I decided to go to the cops could you come with me?" I asked, keeping my eyes locked on my hands in my lap. I knew I was stronger than this, but acknowledging that I was considering taking this step had me petrified.

"Absolutely."


	28. Chapter 28

**AN: Hey. A few things before we begin. I want to apologize for how long this took, but I have begun working full time again and adjusting has been pretty hard. It's better now, so actual writing should be getting done faster now.**

**Secondly, I received a few reviews from some new readers. I truly wanted to respond to them personally (they're still even in my inbox) but because of everything that has been going on I never got around to it. I apologize, but I really want you'se to know how grateful and am for the love and support and reviews.**

**Lastly, I'm entering the Taste of the Forbidden 2 contest. My entry is already half written and has been sitting in a folder for months now so it's not going to take so much time away from this story.**

**So let's get on with it. This chapter has been beta'd by the wonderful SereineinNC. All things Twilight belong to SM**

"I'm like, incredibly nervous," I told Angela as we kneaded dough for the cinnamon rolls. "This is the first date I've been on since…a long time. I don't even know _how_ to be on a date."

Angela snorted. "What does that even mean?"

"I don't even know. The last few dates I went on were horrible and I had built up this dislike of them. Now that I'm going to do it again I don't know how I'm supposed to act. Like, do I let Edward pay for everything or do I pay my share now that I have a bit of money? Do I dress up or dress casually? Should I expect a goodnight kiss?"

Never in my life had I ever put so much thought into a date. Never in my life had I _cared_ so much.

"Okay," she laughed. "Um, I think Edward will definitely pay for everything. I'm actually pretty damn sure he will." She gave me a pointed look, waiting for me to disagree. However, I knew she was right and, in retrospect, it was stupid for me to assume otherwise.

"Do you know where he's taking you?"

"No, but I did ask him to forgo any art museums, galleries, or exhibits, so there's that," I added pathetically.

"Alright. I would say dress casually unless he tells you otherwise, but you can always ask him. As far as the kiss…don't know what to tell ya. Have you kissed him before?"

"We haven't made out or anything, but yeah, I guess."

"Mmm. I think that's something you're going to have to play by ear. It can't be forced, so if it feels right it'll happen."

"Yeah, I guess," I mumbled. I _really_ wanted it to happen.

"So are you excited?" she squealed, the most girlie sound I'd ever heard from her.

"Maybe," I said, averting my eyes and trying to hide my smile. "Okay. I'm so damn excited that I have no clue what to do with myself," I admitted

"I'm excited _for_ you. You've got to tell me everything on Monday."

I rolled the dough out flat, making it as even as I could so I could sprinkle on the cinnamon sugar combo. However, my mind was miles away – at a hospital to be exact. I couldn't help but wonder if Edward was at least half as nervous as I was. Probably not. He always had things in control and his emotions were always one of those things. I'm sure he had some level of anxiety, no matter how minute, but it was probably for different reasons.

A part of me, despite what he said, still worried that he had changed his mind about us and was just afraid to actually say it. He had grown a lot more respectful toward me, and I think that's the reason he might have been scared to hurt my feelings. It was probably easier on him to be rude and hateful towards me.

MoBM

I stood in front of my closet Saturday night, staring at it and hoping that an outfit would magically pop out on its own. However, nothing in the closet was appropriate for a date. The few clothes I had were for practicality – not sex appeal.

I was done looking. No matter how hard I wished for a miracle, nothing in there would do.

"Hey Rose," I greeted when she finally picked up her phone.

"What's up?"

"Nothing. I was trying to figure out what to wear for my date tomorrow and…"

"Woah, woah, woah," she interrupted. "What date? You never said anything about a date. With who?"

"I never told you? Are you sure you just didn't forget?" I asked.

"I think I'd remember if you told me you had a fucking date, Bella," she snapped. "Now who's it with?"

"Uhh…Edward?" I don't know why I was so scared to tell her that the date was with Edward. I was her best friend, but Edward was family. In our own way, her and I were family also, but Edward was her soon-to-be brother in law. She had a certain amount of obligation of loyalty and protection to him and what if she didn't approve?

And, oh jeez, what about Emmett? I'm about eighty five percent certain he thinks that his brother could do better than me. Hell,_ I_ know that he could do better.

Maybe I should cancel.

"…Bella!" Rosalie screamed in my ear.

"Shit, Rose! What the hell?"

"Well I was talking to you and you weren't responding. What the hell happened?"

"Nothing," I dismissed. "What were you saying?"

With a huff she continued. "What I was saying was that I'm happy for you and asked if you knew where you were going?"

"You're happy for me?" I asked disbelievingly. "Why?!"

"Why wouldn't I be? You like him, don't you?"

"Well…yeah. How did you know?"

"I dunno – something changed between you two. Nothing obvious or anything, but more friendly maybe? I can't explain it, but either way, if this is what you want then I'm happy for you."

"Thanks, Rose. Just…don't tell Emmett, okay?" I pleaded.

"Why not?" She sounded offended.

"Because I'm still not sure how he feels about me. I think we're in a good place and I don't want a date with Edward to mess that up," I explained.

"And how would that mess it up?" She was just full of questions tonight.

"Because that's Emmett's brother and…just don't say anything, okay? This date might not go anywhere anyway – be a complete bust – so there'd be no point."

"Whatever." She said in an all too familiar tone. She may not tell Emmett _now,_ but she will at some point. However, I knew that continuing to argue about it now would be useless.

"Anyway, the reason I was calling was to ask if you had anything that I could borrow to wear. I don't have anything that's suitable for a date unless he takes me to go paint a house," I explained.

"What about the box of clothes that we brought back from Forks? If you're telling me that you have nothing to wear then I know you haven't looked in there."

I smacked my hand against my forehead. I had pushed that box all the way to the back of the closet, promising myself that I would go through it later and never got around to it.

"I forgot all about it. What's in there anyway?" Rosalie had been the one to pack it. I grabbed a few sweaters, but Rosalie insisted that I should bring more of my wardrobe.

"The Sisterhood jeans are in there," she said, satisfaction coating her voice.

I guffawed out a laugh. "Oh shit! I forgot all about those. They're in there? They probably won't fit me anymore."

The Sisterhood jeans were a pair of black jeans that fit us both beautifully, despite our different curves and figures, just like in the movie The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. Rosalie said I should keep them, though, because they made my ass look better than they did hers.

"Bella! Those pants are fucking magic. Trust. They'll fit." She was so sure.

"We'll see. What else is in there?"

"A few tops, slacks, shoes – the stuff that I figured you wouldn't think you'd ever need," she answered smugly.

"Ugh. I'm getting off the phone now. I can tell that head of yours has grown since we've been on the phone. I'll call you later."

"You damn well better. Let me know what you picked out."

After hanging up with Rosalie, I pulled out the box from the back of the closet. I pulled out everything, except the shoes, without looking at it until I found the black jeans. It was amazing that after all the years I had them they still looked good; not that worn and faded look. They smelled a little dingy, but that was probably from being stored for so long. It wasn't something a quick wash couldn't take care of.

I removed my sweats and slipped on the black denim jeans. They fit…perfectly, like they always had. I twisted my back to take a look at my ass. I couldn't see it well, but I could just tell that it looked good. These were a definite must for the date.

I shimmied out of the jeans with a renewed giddiness and put them aside to throw in the wash later. I looked through the items that I had already taken out of the box. Most of the tops that Rosalie had packed seemed too fancy to be casual, more appropriate for clubs, and I had a feeling that clubbing is not what Edward had in mind for our first date.

I was about to give in and call Alice when a flash of pink caught my eye. I didn't know how I managed to miss it before, but it was perfect. A powder pink cardigan, which I only vaguely remembered, to layer on top of a white camisole. It was casual, but neat.

I went back into the box to see what shoes she had packed. With my luck, and knowing Rosalie, there would probably be nothing but heels and boots in there. Just like my clothes, I didn't want anything fancy to cover my feet.

"No way," I whispered when I reached the bottom of the box that seemed never ending. On the very bottom of the pile were the knee length chucks that I had bought but never even worn, having bought them a few days before everything happened with my parents. I loved them, though. I remembered complaining to Rosalie that I couldn't afford them at the time. They were the first thing I bought after I got paid for teaching an art lesson for children.

Whether the sneakers went with the outfit or not, I was wearing them.

MoBM

I woke up early Sunday morning – a lot earlier than was probably necessary. Edward and I talked last night and agreed that we would head out around one. He still hadn't told me where we were going but confirmed that I should dress casually. It was only nine now, but I was feeling anxious and completely out of sorts. I could hear Edward outside my door, going about as if this date wasn't a big deal. It was, at least to me.

I jumped in the shower to wash, scrub, shave, buff, and do all those things I expected other girls to do when they have a big night out. There was no point in shaving, but I always felt cleaner and a bit more appealing with smooth legs. Frankly, shaving and washing in general, was something that I learned not to take for granted. I always stayed in the shower longer than I should, wasting the hot water as I relished the heat against my clean skin. Getting out was always hard.

I spent the rest of the time – hours – getting dressed. I buttoned the cardigan then unbuttoned it. Then buttoned it again only to unbutton it once more. I repeated the pattern until I finally had had enough of myself and left in buttoned.

I put my hair up…then down…then up…then down. Finally, I left it down but pinned back.

With half an hour left, I zipped up my sneakers and applied a very light coating of makeup that Alice had given to me in passing one day. I still had ten minute to spare. I paced the length of my bedroom, contemplating if it would seem eager of me to wait in the living room. I didn't want my presence to make Edward feel rushed.

Five minutes. Five minutes wouldn't be so bad. Maybe it showed that I wasn't like those girls who needed hours to get ready. Not anymore, anyway.

Four minutes. I walked out my bedroom door with four minutes to spare. I stepped lightly, not wanting my footsteps to be heard from Edward if he was still getting ready.

All the worrying was for naught. Edward was sitting in the living room, his ankles crossed as he watched TV. He looked completely relaxed; a state I didn't see often unless we were eating or watching a movie, which didn't happen much since we both worked.

He looked good from my vantage point – everyone's vantage point, most likely. Light blue jeans with a cream colored cable knit sweater. Every article hugged his body beautifully. It always did. Even the scrubs I saw him wear once made him look like he was modeling hospital wear instead of performing life saving surgery, or whatever kind of surgery he was performing that day.

"So I'm ready when you are," I called out.

"Sure," he answered without looking at me. He turned off the television and stood up, finally turning to face me. "Wow! You look…really…wow," he stumbled through his words. His eyes were wide and his jaw was slightly slack. He never looked at me like _that_ before. It was a look of astonishment, and if I was a different person I might have felt offended, but I was nothing but flattered.

"Yeah?" I asked shyly. "In this?"

"Yeah, in that. I like it…a lot. You have that girl next door look with a slight punk side thanks to those sneakers."

"Thanks…I guess?" I laughed. "You look really nice yourself. I guess we had the same thing in mind," I said, pointing out that we were both wearing sweaters.

That was pretty lame.

"So yeah…we can go." I pointed behind me at the door.

The beginning of the drive was quiet as he drove down streets that I wasn't familiar with, heading towards neighborhood that, out of respect for families with young children, I didn't venture to. These were the wholesome neighborhoods; the ones you see in TV movies and commercials and wish you could live there.

"Are we going…shopping?" I asked, confused, when he finally pulled into a mall parking lot. It wasn't really something people did on first dates, but if it's what he wanted to do…

"No, we're not going shopping," he answered, smirking. "But we are going into the mall."

"Um…alrighty then." Wordlessly I followed next to him. The mall looked big from the outside, but it was actually quite quant. There were three floors, with one dedicated to different eateries. A lot of the store fronts we passed were specialty stores. Aside from the fast food restaurants, I hadn't seen one franchised business or big name business. I liked that.

"Where are we going?" I asked again as we entered the elevator.

"The third floor," he answered cheekily.

I rolled my eyes playfully. "And what's on the third floor?"

"You'll see in a minute."

A few seconds later, we stepped out of the elevator and I was still just as clueless. I followed Edward as he turned right.

"Here we are," he said as he stopped in front of a store. I looked back and forth from the store to Edward, unsure if he was joking or not.

"You're serious?" I wasn't opposed, but genuinely surprised. I would have never guessed this is where he would take me for a first date.

"Yes. Have you never painted your own pottery before?" He asked as he tried to contain his smirk. He was doing a horrible job.

"Well, no, actually. I can't say that I have." The surprise was wearing off, quickly becoming replaced with excitement and giddiness.

"So you mean to tell me that the great and talented Bella, creator of magnificent…creations…has never painted her own plate? Such a shame! What kind of artist are you?" He mocked.

"An artist of the utmost dignity," I answered regally. "However, I shall make an exception for one of my most adoring fans," I joked.

"Then let's go." He grabbed my hand, tugging me behind him.

The place wasn't busy, with only two other stations being occupied. The saleswoman set us up with a plate and a mug each, various bright paints, brushes, and a catalogue of ideas.

"What are you going to paint?" I asked Edward excitedly. The artist in me had different ideas already floating through my head, but the juvenile in me just wanted to use as many different colors as possible.

"I have no idea," he laughed. "I can't draw much. Maybe a tree or something."

"Nice." I tried to sound encouraging, but I'm pretty sure it came out as mocking.

"Oh, be quiet and just paint a masterpiece or something."

That's what I did, kind of. We spent the time in silence. I tried to talk here and there so as not to seem that I was ignoring him, but it got hard as I became so engrossed in my work. Edward was no better. I would look up from time to time to see him biting his lip in concentration or his brows would furrow when he was trying to even out his strokes. It was cute!

"I think I'm done," Edward said with a huff, throwing down his brush with a dramatic flair. "This painting stuff is hard. I don't know how you do it so easily."

I smiled down at my cup, finishing up my last touches, but turned my eyes up to look at him.

"It shouldn't be hard," I said, my head still turned down. "It should be fun. If you're having a hard time it's because you're over thinking it."

"I quit over thinking it an hour ago. I'm still just a little bitter about it. I thought I could create the next Mona Lisa on my plate, but nothing."

I put down my brush after I finished my final stroke. Without giving it a final once over I looked over to Edward's ceramics. The mug was actually really impressive along with his plate.

"That's really cool," I complimented him. On his mug was a pretty accurately painted original Nintendo Gameboy, big screen and all. "I didn't take you for a gamer."

"Not much anymore, but I was big into games when I was younger. It kind of tapered off when I was in college. I became too busy to play."

"So where did the inspiration for that come from?" I asked, pointing to his mug.

"From about fifteen feet away." He nodded his chin to somewhere behind me. I turned to look at where he was pointing. There was a shelf filled with pre-painted ceramics, including a retro Gameboy hand-held.

"Nice." I smirked. "Imitation is the highest form of flattery I guess."

"I would say so. I'd copy you, but I don't think my surgeon hands are steady enough to even attempt it. You did realize that we won't be selling this stuff, right?" he joked. I looked at him curiously.

"You didn't have to go all Botticelli on that plate," he said, referring to my rough interpretation of The Birth of Venus.

"I'm impressed," I teased. "Who woulda thunk the self-centered doctor knew art?"

He mocked glared at me, squinting his eyes in the process.

"I'll have you know that I know a lot about art that deals with naked chicks."

I rolled my eyes. "Ugh. You're such a guy," I laughed.

We continued to joke around until someone took our dishes, which were sent off to be glazed and baked. I was a little bummed that we weren't taking them home today.

"I had a lot of fun," I said as we walked out of the store. "Thanks."

While it wasn't anything that I had ever expected, it was fun and carefree. There was no anxiety or pressure to make conversation. No need to flirt or be someone that I wasn't. I wouldn't lie and say that I didn't hope that maybe we would have talked a little more; gotten to know each other better, but I held hope that this date went well enough to warrant a second one.

"So what are your plans now? You probably have a lot of work to do, huh?" I tried making light conversation to hide the disappointment I was feeling. It was selfish of me to want more of his time – to not want the date to come to an end – but I was really enjoying his time.

He looked at me oddly. "Oh, you want to go home? I had a late lunch planned."

My steps faltered; completely surprised that the date wasn't over. Or maybe, more importantly, he wanted to spend more time with me as well.

"No!" I answered a little too loudly. "We can do lunch. I can eat lunch."

He shook his head in amusement. "Well good. There's a small hole-in-the-wall deli that makes amazing sandwiches. I figured we could grab lunch and eat in the park."

"Sure," I agreed easily.

It seemed that I gained a little more confidence with each step I took as we walked through the mall. I held my head higher and my back straighter as I walked closer to Edward. With a final breath of nervousness, I stuck my hand out and grabbed Edward's. I tried to save face by looking everywhere but at Edward. He hadn't pulled his hand back, which I took as a good sign.

"Is this okay?" I asked timidly, all the guts I thought I had were nowhere to be found. When he didn't answer right away, I was ready to pull my hand back, embarrassment flaring. Before I could, though, he squeezed it and pulled me closer.

"This is more than okay," he said smiling at me.

I started to try to hide my wide smile until I realized that I had no reason to. I was happy, and as far as I was aware, Edward was, too.

The drive to Edward's favorite deli was quick; more specifically, one and a half songs. I stayed in the car while Edward went inside. It shouldn't have made me as happy as it did when he insisted on ordering for the both us. It was almost like we were a couple in a restaurant, just like in the movies.

MoBM

"It's right over here," Edward instructed.

I followed Edward as he led us to his favorite picnic bench in the park. When he had told me about a park earlier, I was expecting a playground and maybe some kind of field. This place was nothing like that. There was a fairly large creek, a bike path running along both sides. There was even a bridge that allowed pedestrians access to both sides. Benches were scattered close to the edge of the creek while picnic tables rested further back. I could hear the faint sounds of cars on the highway beyond the trees.

"This place is really nice," I complimented as we finally sat. The table was under a low hanging tree. It was rather shady, making the slight chill in the air a little more pronounced. It was that odd period right when spring begins. It definitely wasn't as cold as winter, but the full spring temperature still hadn't hit us.

"It is. I don't get to come here often, though." He began unwrapping his sandwich and I followed suit. I was ready to take my first bite when I, regretfully, glanced up at Edward.

"What's wrong?" I asked, slowing lowering the sandwich. My stomach sank and my heart beat faster upon seeing his glum face and hearing the most dreaded words anyone would say.

"We need to talk."


	29. Chapter 29

"We need to talk."

Who says that on a date that seemed to be going so well? We were having a good time and he went off and ruined it…possibly.

Could this be a break up? How exactly do you break up with someone when they haven't even had a complete first date?

"What's that face for?" he asked, his features morphing into concern.

"My face?!" I laughed. "How do you expect me to look when we haven't even finished our first date and you're giving me the boot?" My words were crazed, but really, I had every right to be upset.

"What boot? No one's giving you the boot."

"Well you just don't tell someone 'we need to talk' without them thinking the worse. Those four words are like the kiss of death," I informed him.

"Okay, calm down." He put his hands up.

"Calm down he says," I muttered to myself. "You could have at least let me eat before you kicked me to the curb."

"Would you stop saying that?" he said.

"So then just say what it is that you need to say. It's obviously nothing good." I pushed my uneaten food away. Not only was it unappealing now, but I was afraid that if Edward angered me enough I'd throw it at him and there was nothing I hated more than wasted food.

"It's not great, but it's not that bad either. I'm just afraid of how you'll react," he began.

It was bad. It had to be. Why would he be so concerned with how I'd react if it was good news? Was he afraid that I'd jump into song and dance and embarrass him?

"Just say what you need to say."

He sighed and began rubbing his eyes. "I just think that if we're going to try…and do this," he began, motioning between us, "I want to know about your past. It's been a taboo subject, and I take full blame for that, but I think I should know. I don't want to be surprised by something that pops up in the future."

Well…that's not what I expected, and did he just say…

"Future. You see a future between us?" I asked, clearly surprised and based on his wide eyes, Edward was taken aback also. He was the one who said it, though.

"I don't know," he stuttered. "Maybe? I mean, it's always a possibility, right? Who knows what's going to happen." The more he explained the more he began tripping over his words. I would have felt sorry for him, but I was still more than annoyed at his approach to wanting to "know my past".

"Good to know," I said, letting him off the hook. He was like a drowning man that needed saving. "Anyway, that's all you wanted to talk about, my past?" I asked, just to be sure.

"For now, yeah."

"So why did you have that look on your face? Like you were going to apologize for kicking my puppy?"

"Well…because, I didn't know how _you _were going to react. I didn't want to offend you, but I think it's something that needs to be discussed."

"You could have picked a better time to ask," I said, pointedly looking at the untouched sandwiches, "but it doesn't bother me. You can pretty much ask me anything, but I draw the line at personal questions about my parents. Other than that, what do you want to know?" I finally took a bite of my sandwich. The topic of my homelessness wasn't something that I was hiding from Edward. It happened, and the past couldn't be changed, so there was no point acting like it didn't.

"I don't know – everything, nothing. How about I just ask questions as they come?"

"Sounds like a plan."

He looked contemplative, as if he was unsure which question to ask, or rephrasing them to make them less offensive sounding.

"Um…okay. Uh…where was the best and worst place that you've slept?"

"Hmm…that's actually a pretty tough question because the answers aren't black and white. The best place would have to be your apartment, but I don't think that's what you meant."

"I'm flattered, but I was thinking more along the lines of before my apartment." He shrugged and gave me an apologetic smile.

"Let's see. Sleeping in the streets, like on park benches or in alley ways, sucks, especially during cold and wet weather, though it's not so bad during the spring months. The stars at night provide a great distraction when you need to pass the time. Sleeping in temporary shelters had its ups and downs, too. Sometimes, I stayed with Jane at a friend of hers and that wasn't so bad as long as she was around. The real drawback to that, though, was that for the most part they were all druggies and I had to watch that I wasn't stuck with anything. Renting motel rooms was nice, but I wasted so much money that could have gone towards better things. If I had to choose, though, I'd say the motel rooms were the best and the shelters were the worst."

"Really?" Edward asked, his eyes widened in surprise. "You'd rather sleep on a bench than in the shelter?"

"Just because it's a shelter doesn't mean it's safe," I answered. "Sometimes the wide open is the best bet."

Edward's expression changed from mere curiosity to intense suspicion. I shifted my eyes, looking at anything but him. The topic of what may, or may not have happened, was something that no one, especially someone in a new relationship, would be ready to discuss. However, if he wanted to know about the tainted detail of my past, I'd tell him and let him decide where to go from here.

"What aren't you telling me?" he asked warily.

"I'm not keeping anything from you."

"Bella," he said sternly. "Tell me."

"Look," I sighed. "I'm not quite there yet, to easily talk about this stuff with you and be comfortable about it," I tried explaining.

"What, exactly, does that mean?"

"It means that I'm trying to get to that place where I don't blame myself for things that were beyond my control. You didn't like the way I handled the situation with E – the guy at the motel and I don't want this to be what puts us at odds again."

Edward quirked an eyebrow – he hadn't missed the almost slip of Eric's name. "I can respect that, I guess, and I hope that one day you'll tell me who E is."

I nodded. "I'm working on that, too."

He recovered a few seconds later, asking another question. "What was the hardest thing you had to do?"

I could answer easily. "Ask for money. You never feel truly poor until you willingly ask for a free handout."

"What about…you know…prostituting?" he asked, whispering the last word.

I shrugged. "I didn't like it, but it was a means to an end. The thing you have to understand, though, is that it was two people engaging in an act. It's hard to be judged for screwing someone in his car, when he's the one who paid to get screwed in his car. Begging, though? You're putting yourself out there to be ridiculed, put in the spotlight, and questioned. You're told that you're lazy or that you deserve to be where you're at, or refused money because you're just going to buy drugs or alcohol." I laughed humorlessly. "My clothes were dirty, hanging off my body in rags, my hair ratted and my skin was stained, so why would I want money for alcohol? People don't recognize hunger because they've never been hungry." I paused, contemplating all the times I was ignored or turned away. "And really, if I wanted a fucking beer, I think I deserved a fucking beer."

The silence that surrounded us after my rant sounded like nails on a chalkboard. It was uncomfortable and deafening. I began chewing on the sandwich that tasted like nothing, but I needed something to do. Across from me, Edward was picking on the crust of his bread, and tossed the crumbs to the side.

"I ruined this, didn't I?" I asked, breaking the silence. I grimaced at the forlorn expression on Edward's face.

"No, you didn't ruin it. Nothing is ruined. I was the one who wanted to talk about this."

"If you wanna…" He cut me off with his hand in the air.

"Hold on, I just want to say something," he began. With a deep breath and a hand through his hair he began speaking. "I just want to apologize. For every time I made you feel bad or made you feel like you were beneath me,or not as good as me. For every time I turned my back when you needed help. When _I_ ridiculed you or made you feel uncomfortable and unwelcomed when all you wanted was someone to treat you as an equal. When, in fact, you're one of the best people I've ever met. You treat everyone with the utmost respect while someone in your position has every right to be wary of those around you."

"You know," I said and cleared my throat, hoping to dislodge the lump there, "you didn't have to apologize. I never really expected one."

"Why are you like this?" he asked irritated. "Why are you being so nice about it? Be angry, pissed off at the world – me."

"What's the point of being angry?" I asked. "I went through a period of anger, it was actually around the same time I met Jane. I was angry at everything and everyone. You know what it got me? My ass kicked. After a while, and Jane's help, I realized being mad wasn't getting me anywhere. It didn't make people more inclined to help me. I learned that it didn't matter what people thought of me. I couldn't change their minds or attitudes, and therefore, I expected less of them just like they expected nothing of me."

"So treat those how they treat you?" he interjected.

"No," I laughed. "Treat those how you _want_ to be treated. If I treated you the way you treated me, I doubt we would be sitting here right now."

Guilt marred his flawless face, making me want to smack myself for such a thoughtless comment.

"I was an asshole, wasn't I?"

"Not as much as you think you were," I amended. He looked at me with a disbelieving smirk. "I'm serious! You offered me a job, a place to stay when-"

"That wasn't a completely altruistic offer," he interrupted.

"No, but it was still more than I ever expected. There was also the hospital," I said softly. His face turned red for an unexplained reason, and his hands balled into fist. I reached out hesitantly to relax one fist. I slipped my fingers through his when he finally let me. "You held my hand, I was so scared and in so much pain, and you were there. Saying you didn't like me would have been an understatement, but you came and you stayed during one of the few times I was really scared to be alone."

"But I still treated you like shit afterward."

"You were upset." I shrugged. "I understood, still do." I tried smiling at Edward, hoping to make him see that I wasn't upset and I didn't want him to be, either. I was all for leaving the past right where it was. However, Edward was content on stewing and I hated that this is where the date was headed.

"Eric."

"Huh?"

"His name is Eric. Don't ask for any more information. The only reason why I even gave you that was to show you that things are getting better and will continue to get better, with due time, so there's no reason to be upset about things we can't change."

"Thank you," he said softly, squeezing my hand.

"I just want one – no, two things from you in return." I smiled mischievously.

"And what's that?" He was finally smiling.

"For one thing, I want to concentrate on the future, not the past. I want to make happy memories, not relive bad ones," I began.

"Sounds reasonable. What's the second thing?"

"I want a kiss."

MoBM

The sterilized odor of the hospital was easily replaced with the smell of the best non-toxic paints I could find. Stiff drop cloths covered the tile floor while plastic sheeting protected the worn, but cared for children's furniture.

Getting the green light on my ideas was not as easy as I assumed it would be. Initially, the hospital wanted very juvenile murals decorating the halls. However, I felt that was unfair to the teenage patients that had to be put in the pediatric ward because they were under eighteen. Thankfully, we were able to come to an agreement that two walls could be "teen friendly. I decided to go with graffiti style writing, which turned out to be more difficult than I had imagined. It definitely gave me a new found appreciation for graffiti artists that I didn't previously have. I completed those two walls first to give the board members the opportunity to get used to it before the ward was officially complete.

After two and a half weeks of working at the bakery, many therapy sessions, and working on the hospital walls, it felt like there was no end in sight. I appreciated it all, but I was tired and stressed out over trying to do the best I could with everything that was on my plate. I didn't want to disappoint anyone who depended on me to get something done to the best of my abilities, but I hadn't been so busy in such a long time. I had to relearn organization and time management.

Edward tried to help when he could. A few times he brought me lunch or dinner, and on particularly brutal days he rubbed my feet.

He and I were in a weird place. The date a few weeks ago had ended on a good note. Talks about my past were not brought up again and he did kiss me like I asked him. It was a careful, slow kiss at first with no tongue. It was…nice, but I wasn't exactly asking for nice. It didn't take much for him to give more, though. With only the slightest nip on his bottom lip, something seemed to set off a switch in his head. He began kissing me back harder, his hand finding its way into my hair. All I needed was to feel just the tip of his tongue on my top lip before I opened up fully to him. What started off cautiously, ended with both of us breaking away with a pant before one of us did something we would later regret.

Since the date we hung out when we could, but it wasn't much. More often than not, we sat snuggled together on the couch eating dinner and watching a movie. With both of our tight schedules, neither of us stayed up much later than midnight and even that was pushing it.

Despite it all, though, I didn't know what to call what we had. I didn't know if I could, or should, call him my boyfriend, or if what we had was something official. Though we didn't go out on another date, were we dating? We certainly weren't sleeping together, not even in the same room, so I couldn't call him a friend with benefits, but we were much more than that would suggest. I was nervous to broach the subject with him, so I just went with whatever we were doing.

Because I was working with a strict deadline and only had five more days to finish, Angela had agreed to give me three days off so I could dedicate the much needed hours to the hospital. Today was one of those days where I would literally be here all day. I hadn't seen Edward at all today; he was gone before I was even awake. I knew he had a major surgery scheduled today, so I wasn't surprised when I hadn't seen him as of yet.

The large clock on the wall read almost three o'clock. I had been here since nine and I was starving. Even though the area I was working in was closed off to the public, I still made sure to tuck away any supplies that would be in someone's way.

I waited for the elevator as I retied my hair that had fallen from the tie. I knew I looked like a mess, with paint stained skin, finger nails, and clothes, but most people who worked in the hospital knew who I was and didn't expect me to look so presentable. Even still, many of them smiled at me and commented how commendable it was that I was willing to work so long and hard for free. I always brushed off the compliment with polite dismissal, letting them know that it was something I enjoyed.

The elevator opened with a ding and I stepped inside without looking up as I dug into my pocket for my phone. Hopefully, Edward would be free for lunch. The elevator was huge and more than half full. I shot Edward a text, hoping but not expecting him to reply back. By the time I reached Edward's floor, I was the only one left. I was already in front of the door waiting for them to open when I wished they never had. Waiting to get on was Tanya and Edward himself. I stood there a second too long, not sure of what I should do as I stared at the both of them standing too close for my comfort. She looked positively delighted while he looked like he got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Making up my mind, and my heart, I gave him a broken smile and moved to walk around them. I wouldn't give either of them the satisfaction of seeing me hurt or making an embarrassing scene. I could act just as careless as the next heartbroken girl.

"Bella. We were just about to meet you downstairs," Edward said as he grabbed my arm when I was about to pass him.

_I was just about…_ The thing everyone says when they get caught in a lie and looking for a way out.

I was about to speak when Tanya opened her mouth. "Wait a second, I know you," she said in disbelief. "You're the maid!" She turned to Edward. "Your girlfriend is the maid?"

My jaw went slack. Not because she recognized me, but because she had called me his girlfriend. The only way she would have used that word was if _Edward_ had used that word. Had Edward told Tanya I was his girlfriend?

"She's not the maid, Tanya," Edward corrected her in exasperation. "She was never the maid. I just told you that because-"

"So where are you going?" I asked, cutting him off. I didn't want him to explain anything to her. I may not have been pleased to see them together, but whatever we had was none of her business.

"Well, Edward here wanted me to meet his girlfriend before we went out for a late lunch," she answered with an evil smirk on her face.

"Oh." I nodded. "Well, it was nice running into you again, so I guess I'll let you two enjoy your lunch."

"God, Tanya," Edward groaned. Edward grabbed my face in his hands, bringing his lips softly to mine then mouthed his apologies. He pulled away, but linked his fingers with mine before turning back to an angry looking Tanya. "I didn't mean "we" as in you and I, I meant "we" as in her and I. You invited yourself."

"Don't be like that," she practically purred. "We have _fun_ when we're together." I didn't miss the double meaning behind her words.

"No," he replied, drawing out the o. "You were convenient."

Tanya was undeterred as she laughed softly. "Either way, it was good."

"Look," I said, having had enough of the back and forth. I didn't want to hear about whatever they were or weren't. "I'm hungry and I have a lot of things I need to finish up. I have to go."

Edward didn't let me untangle my fingers from his, but held on tighter.

"I'm sorry," he apologized again. "Is the cafeteria okay for you today? I'm in between surgeries right now and I don't have much time."

"The cafeteria's fine." I smiled tightly at him. I wasn't mad at him, but at the situation forced upon me.

"Great. Let's go then," Tanya said with a bright smile. "They have amazing tomato soup."

"Awesome," I thought as I scowled at the floor.

MoBM

"So what do you do if you're not the maid?" Tanya asked as she slurped her blood red soup. It amazed me how someone who looked so refined could eat soup like a beast. She scraped her plastic spoon against the Styrofoam cup, making an awful grating sound every time. She slurped and sucked her tongue every time she took a sip of the soup or water. More than once Edward had to pull me from my thoughts of how annoyingly she ate her food.

"I work at a bakery," I answered simply.

"And she paints," Edward added proudly…and way too quickly.

"Anything I've heard of?" She smiled as if she already knew the answer - like I was an amateur, a failure, a starving artist that would never make it in the world of famous painters.

"There's a piece titled The Calling," Edward answered for me. My head snapped to his quickly, surprised and a little perturbed that out of everything I had painted he knew _that_ one. It wasn't my best known work, but was my best selling piece ever. It depicted a faceless, genderless figure burning in front of the Crucifix. It was painted using only black and white, except for the fire that shines with the brightest orange.

Did he feel that he had to brag about it? Was he trying to make me appear more impressive than I actually was?

"Never heard of it," she answered snidely.

"Ask your aunt Millie," Edward chuckled. "She's heard of it."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Tanya snapped. It was like watching a tennis match between two people that were playing with your equipment.

"I'm done," I said, standing up from the table. This was me taking my ball and going home. They were playing some sort of passive aggressive game that I wanted no part of.

I left the table, half expecting Edward to follow behind me. When I reached the elevator with no Edward in sight, I was resigned to believe that he stayed behind with her. I couldn't say that I was very surprised.

MoBM

I was dead on my feet when I walked into Edward's apartment a quarter after nine. The day was long, but I got so much done. My feet ached, my back hurt, my head was pounding, and my stomach was killing me. I hadn't talked to or spoken to Edward since lunch and he hadn't reached out to me either. Thankfully, the ability to completely lose myself in work and forget the rest of the world didn't go away. It wasn't until I looked at the clock that I realized that I should stop working, and once I stopped working I realized how much my body protested every miniscule movement I made.

Without seeing if Edward was home, or getting something to eat, I walked straight to my room and flopped down on my bed.

"Hi," Edward called from the doorway. "I just ordered some Chinese; should be here in about half hour."

"We sure do eat a lot of Chinese food around here," I replied without looking at him.

"It's good."

"That it is." With way more strength than should have been needed, I managed to pull myself off the bed and walked to the bathroom. I passed Edward without saying a word. I washed my hands and headed towards the living room instead. Edward was already sitting on the couch so I choose the loveseat instead.

"You're mad at me," Edward stated.

I took a long look at him before replying. He looked tired, solemn. He looked like how I imagined I looked at the moment.

"No, not mad, but…are you ashamed of me?" It was a question that I never intended to ask him, but I couldn't help but wonder. It was the only reason I could logically think of to explain why he was so quick to answer Tanya during lunch. He had to give me merit, make my life seem better than it was – make himself feel better about calling a previously homeless chick his girlfriend.

"What?! No!" To his credit he looked bewildered, and maybe even a little hurt at my insinuation. "Why would you even think that?"

"Because I'm trying to come up with a reason why you were so eager to amp me up to Tanya. She didn't need to know anything about me, but you told her things to make me seem impressive. I was fine with her knowing that I only worked in a bakery."

"But you don't_ only_ work in a bakery," he argued.

"Yeah, actually, I do. Is that not good enough for you?"

"If I thought it wasn't good enough for me then I never would've even thought about you becoming more than a friend."

"Then break it down for me, Edward, because I'm having a hell of a time coming up with a conclusion all on my own. You can start with what you were doing with her in the first place?"

I wanted to take that question back as soon as I said it. I already sounded like a jealous girlfriend and we hadn't even touched on that little nugget from this afternoon. However, Edward didn't grimace at my slip up.

"Tanya is a pharmaceutical rep, so she actually visits the hospital about three or four times a month, but it varies. I hadn't seen her since that day she came to my apartment however many months ago. She waited for me in my office – I was in surgery – and asked me to a late lunch. I turned her down, telling her I still wasn't interested in seeing her anymore and that I already had a girlfriend." He motioned to me. "I said goodbye, but she followed me to the elevator and that's when you got there. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Okay," I said slowly, knowing that he wasn't lying. "How did you know about The Calling and what does it have to do with her aunt?"

Edward looked straight at me and unashamed when he answered. "I Googled you."

"You… Googled me?"

"Well not you as Bella, but you as in Isabella Swan, artist. I found an article about the piece and the buyer, who happens to be Tanya's aunt. She married rich and basically turned her back on the rest of the family, namely Tanya's mother, when they implied that she married for money. Millie – Mildred – is actually a lovely person, so of course she doesn't get along with the rest of the family."

"Pierce. Bert Pierce was the buyer."

"Yup, Herbert and Mildred Pierce. Tanya's aunt and uncle."

"Huh. Small world."

"Bella, honestly, I'm just proud of you and everything you've accomplished. I guess I went about it the wrong way, but I really didn't mean anything by it. If I'm guilty of anything, it's rubbing the information of her aunt in her face. It just pissed me off that she tried to lessen your talent."

"I could've defended myself."

"I know, but would you have?" he asked, an eyebrow quirked.

I shrugged. "Probably not the way you did. I just…don't care what she thinks of me. As long as the people I care about think well of me, then I'm okay with what people like her think. What you're failing to remember is that I went a long time with people thinking the absolute worse of me – with good reason. It doesn't faze me now," I explained.

"You're a better person than me, I guess."

"Nah," I disagreed. "Can I ask you something, though?"

"Sure."

"Did you…uh…really refer to me as your girlfriend?" I asked, embarrassed that I needed clarification.

"Yes. Are you not?" His eyebrows furrowed and his face scrunched in adorable confusion.

"I want to be," I assured him, "but we never really discussed titles so I didn't want to assume that I was, or that you were my boyfriend. I wasn't even sure what we were," I rambled.

"It's settled then. So, does my girlfriend want to sit next to me instead of way over there? I kinda got used to you being so close and all this extra space sucks."

With hot cheeks and a shy smile, I made my way over to Edward and sat next to him. He grabbed my wrist and placed a kiss on the palm of my hand.

"I do want to ask you one more thing," he spoke. "The hospital is having a small party to celebrate the new pediatric ward. Would you like to be my date? I think it'd be pretty cool having the girl who brought it to life on my arm." He smirked.

"I better be your date," I said, poking him in the ribs. "And I'm not the one who brought it to life. That, Edward, was your doing. Seriously, though, I'd love to."

"Great! I already know that I'll have the hottest date there," he said, sounding every bit the cocky guy that I knew.

"You think I'm hot?" I teased.

"Absolutely smoking."

It was amazing how Edward and I were able to get where we are from where we were. If this was months, or even weeks ago, I would have never even dreamed of asking if he thought I was hot. Then again, he probably would have never admitted that piece of information..

While the teasing and joking was all well and good, it was scary to know, and not be able to admit, that I was falling in love with him. I've cared for Edward for awhile now – loved even – but being _in love_ was something new, foreign, and completely frightening.

Having Edward love me back was something I hoped for, but didn't exactly expect.

**AN: Beta'd by le wonderful SereneinNC.**

**Yes, this is extremely late, but no one wants to hear it more than I want to say it. **


	30. Chapter 30

**AN: So yeah, where do I begin? Is it frustrating to have to wait give or take a month for a story update? Yes, it is. However, threatening to take away readership doesn't do anything to make me go faster. So the reviews telling me to hurry up or letting me know it's been a long time since I updated (and p.s. I know how long it's been so I don't need the reminder) don't light a fire under my ass. The concept of FREE entertainment is something that doesn't seem to be considered with fan fiction. Like I said, this AN might lose me readers and/or review(ers) but I'm cool with that, especially when it comes to those who review anon with something nasty to say. Complain to me when you start paying me to write.**

**With that being said, I don't want it to seem that I'm not focusing on my loyal readers. There are so many of you that have been great to me despite my lack of timely updates and review replies. THEY are the reason why I put out updates and write after 10 hr work days like today. So to you guys, from the bottom of my heart, I love you all and am thankful to a degree in which I cannot express.**

"Tell me again how I'm supposed to dress for this thing," I yelled to Edward from my room as I rummaged through boxes of my old clothes. The room looked as if the closet threw up.

The celebration of the new children's ward was tomorrow and with everything going on, I hadn't actually purchased a dress, let alone even thought about what I was going to wear. I had only finished the ward three days ago, very behind schedule due to a cold that knocked me on my ass. On top of that, I still had my job at the bakery and therapy to worry about.

"Semi-formal," he answered, coming to stand at my door. "Christ! What happened in here? Couldn't you have been a little…neater about it?" he asked, motioning towards the disaster that was my bedroom.

I stopped moving clothes around to take a good look at what he was seeing. The room really did look horrible, and I felt slightly ashamed that I was so careless about looking through my things. Despite the bedroom being "my space" it was still his home and I should have been more respectful of how I did things.

"Sorry," I apologized and began picking up the strewn about clothing.

"There's nothing to be sorry about," he said as he picked up an old bra that was on the bed. He held it up in the air, smirking at me as the ratty thing dangled from his finger. I snatched it away quickly.

"Shut up," I chuckled. "That used to be my period bra – the one I wore when my boobs were tender. This is the most comfortable bra ever," I informed him.

"If you say so," he laughed. "You should model it for me one day…when you're_ not_ on your period." He wagged his eyebrows and gave me a salacious smile.

The thought of standing semi-naked in front of a completely naked Edward had me feeling flushed and warm. I'd never seen him naked from the waist down, but if his bare chest was any indication of how he looked down there, then I was certainly in for a treat if we ever reached that point in our relationship.

"Bella, are you…blushing?" he snickered, while standing and sauntering toward me. "What are you thinking about?" he asked as he wrapped his arms around me.

I hid my face in his chest, trying to prevent my embarrassment from showing. Of course, though, this was Edward and he didn't let anything go.

"You're forgetting that I'm a guy and even worse, I used to be a teenager. I know that look, and you were thinking sexy thoughts. Tell me," he asked, whispering the last part in my ear.

I pulled my head back, but still refused to look him in the eye and began playing with an invisible snag in his sweater. "I was thinking of you." I paused. "Naked."

"I'm flattered," he breathed in my ear. "You don't have to be embarrassed, though. Would it help if I told you that I've thought about you naked, too?"

He was serious, I knew he was, but I couldn't help but laugh and ask, "Seriously?"

"Not if that's the reaction I'm going to get."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I chuckled, trying to calm myself down. "It's just that I didn't think you thought of me that way. I mean you… well, look at you. You can't tell me that you don't know how sexy you are, but me, not so much. It's kinda unfair if you ask me."

"Huh," he breathed. He brought his head down and placed a gentle kiss on my lips. "You're wrong. If I thought that either of us were ready to take that next step in this relationship, I would have already laid you on my bed and had you naked."

"I'm ready," I replied huskily. At least I felt ready. My body was drawn to his; I'd never wanted someone so physically before in my life.

Edward began trailing kisses up and down my neck while his hands began rubbing my back. His hands made a slow descent, coming to a rest on my ass. He squeezed tightly, which only served to spur on urges that I thought were gone forever. Despite my previous occupation, very rarely, if ever, was I turned on. It was always a mind game I had to win with myself to go forward when I turned a trick. It became easier over time, but it was still always something I had to psych myself up for, at least as much as I could, to get the job done.

This, however, was real. There was no thinking about it; my body was having a natural reaction to a male. I wanted this for reasons other than monetary gain. I tried losing myself in the feeling of his hands on my body parts on his lips and tongue on my neck.

Before I realized what was happening, Edward had moved his hand and palmed my crotch, leaving one hand firmly planted on my ass. I stiffened at the familiar feeling, which wasn't a comforting familiarity. There were too many times when this kind of feeling didn't end well for me.

I tried to push the negative feelings aside and just concentrate on _Edward's_ hands on me – not Peter's, James', Eric's, or the random other men. I had to remind myself that this was Edward. He wasn't after me for pure pleasure and he wasn't going to tell me to leave when he was done. We were in a relationship and this was normal in a relationship. Sex was almost expected in a relationship. If I could give worthless men sex, then I could have sex with Edward – a man I loved, although he wasn't aware how deep my feelings ran.

I could do this.

It was different this time.

Edward cared for me on a level that none of the others did.

Edward kissed back up my neck, coming close to my ear. "I told you we weren't ready for this," he whispered in my ear before placing one last kiss behind my ear and enveloping me in a tight hug.

I pulled back, but didn't remove myself from his tight embrace. "How did you know?" I asked as tears began stinging my eyes.

"Because you've been through a lot so it's only expected that something so intimate would bring back bad memories. I have faith that we'll get there one day, but today isn't the day, Bella. I'm not in a rush and I don't want you to think that we should be."

I nodded and brought my face to his chest, inhaling the scent that made me feel secure. "Can we just cuddle?" I mumbled into his shirt.

"Sure. If we can find the bed under all your clutter," he joked.

"Shut up," I laughed, pulling away from him. I threw all the clothes onto the floor and dragged Edward over by his arm. He wasted no time wrapping me in his arms and gently rocking us both. After only a few minutes of lying together I became so comfortable that sleep was becoming hard to fight.

I was in that odd limbo between conscience and sleep and I heard Edward mutter that something was worth it.

Edward was worth it.

MoBM

"I'm nervous. I shouldn't be nervous; there's nothing to be nervous about," I chanted as I paced the living room. I was going to leave a track with my incessant pacing.

We were scheduled to be at the hotel for the banquet in half an hour, but Edward was adamant that we should be at least ten minutes late since these things never really started on time. He had been to many of these so I took his word without question. Even still, though, I had been anxious about the night all day and had begun getting ready hours before it was really necessary.

Edward was in the bathroom, "taking a quick piss", as he so eloquently put it. We were leaving as soon as he was done.

"You ready to go?" he asked, stepping out of the bathroom and adjusting his tie.

Edward was so handsome in general, but when he threw a suit on it just upped his sex appeal. It wasn't often that I got to see him in a full suit, so I soaked it in on the infrequent occasions.

He was wearing a simple black suit, tailored to fit, and a skinny purple tie that matched the color of my dress. It was actually Edward that picked out the dress when he saw it laying over the desk. It was a purple sleeveless cocktail dress that reached just above the knee, nothing fancy at all. I wore it maybe twice, but didn't even consider it because I wasn't sure if the color was appropriate or not. I paired it with a wide black belt and heels that Rosalie inserted in the box during our trip to Forks.

"You look…very good," I complimented, my tongue only hanging out slightly.

"Are you listening to me?" Edward asked, lifting me from my suit and tie haze.

"Yes?" I questioned, completely clueless of what he had just said.

"No you weren't," he laughed. "Anyway, I said that you look lovely and that I have a surprise waiting for you at the banquet."

"A surprise?" I asked surprised. "Like what? You didn't buy me a present or anything did you? Should I have bought you something?" I rambled.

"No, Bella. Calm down. There's someone I want you to meet tonight. I think it would be good if you two talked."

"Is it someone important, or just a friend?"

"Um, both I guess. Don't be nervous; there's no reason for that perspiration," he laughed, pointing to my forehead.

"Shut up! You're such an ass. Why didn't you say something sooner? I don't have enough time to prep myself. What if they ask me something about medicine? I don't know anything about medicine. Or even worse, what if they don't like what I did? Am I going to get in trouble? Are you going to get in trouble?" I rambled, wringing my hands to keep from completely freaking out.

"Bella!" Edward grabbed my shoulders and shook me slightly. "Stop! There's no reason for you to be so nervous. The reason why I didn't say something sooner was because I thought that if I waited until the last minute I could prevent this kind of behavior. Just believe me when I say that you'll enjoy speaking with this person. Trust me, okay?" I nodded, unconfidently. "Good. Let's go. I'm having a really good hair day and I don't want it to go to waste."

I laughed despite myself at his vanity. He wasn't so outwardly conceited, but he always let it be known when his hair was behaving.

With deep, calming breaths I rode the elevator down, holding on tightly to Edward's hand. Logically, there was no reason to be nervous. This was small fries compared to some of the events I had been to, but not only was the new ward important to Edward and the hospital; it was almost like a re-introduction of my art career.

MoBM

The Hilton Seattle banquet room was beautifully decorated with soft creams and browns. Blown up photographs of the new ward lined the walls. When I asked Edward why, if we were celebrating the new ward, the party wasn't held in the ward itself, he explained that the board members wanted it to be functioning and operating as soon as possible. Everyone seemed content with the stills and a short presentation of the ward that was scheduled to play later in the evening.

When Edward and I arrived the room was already full, people milling about and servers flitting between guests offering beverages. I played the dutiful guest and stood close to Edward as he talked with hospital staff, board members, and parents that had been invited to partake in the celebration. More than once, Edward was given a pat on the back for a job well done; bringing everything together and making it seem so effortless. If I hadn't known Edward before tonight, I would think he was the humblest person walking the earth. He shrugged off compliments, explaining that he couldn't do it himself and that he had many colleagues that worked right with him. He even made it a point to inform people that I was the artist behind the murals and that I did it all solo.

Many times, people pulled me away from Edward's side to drag me to a photo that illustrated some mural or another. I received my own compliments and inquiries about private jobs. I made it a point to not commit to any offer, instead taking a number down with a promise to get back to them. It wasn't that I didn't want to sell my services, but if I was going to seriously get back in to my painting, I couldn't spend time painting this or that for anyone who was willing to pay. I needed to concentrate on my own inspirations and creativity without a deadline or someone breathing down my neck.

It had been about an hour of socializing when Edward politely pulled me away from a mother and father of a little boy who had many stints in the children's ward. Timothy was born with a deformed heart that required many hospital stays and extremely invasive surgeries. Thankfully, I was told Timothy was living as normal life as possible, though some activities and sports weren't possible.

"That person I wanted to introduce you to is here, at the bar," Edward said as we approached said bar. There were two women and one man, all three facing away from us.

"David," Edward called out when we reached the man who had just received his order from the bartender. As if in slow motion, David turned around to reveal himself. It was like the world was turned on its axis, the air in the room was sucked out, time had reversed, and I was living in a dream…or nightmare.

"Mr. Banner," I whispered, staring at the man who helped launch my art pieces while I was in college. He was my mentor, the person I looked up to, and the only person's advice and help I sought in school. His opinion of my art and work ethic mattered the most out of anyone, even my parents, though I'd never admit that out loud.

"Isabella." He smiled widely as his eyes glazed with unshed tears. "May I?" he asked, holding his arms open for a hug. Without answering his question, I walked into his open arms and squeezed him tightly.

"I see some people I need to speak with so if you'll excuse me." Edward politely excused himself, giving us privacy to speak.

Mr. Banner guided me to two empty stools at the opposite end of the bar. I ordered a soda while he began sipping his drink.

"Still not a big fan of alcohol, I see," Mr. Banner chuckled.

"No. Stupid things can happen when alcohol is involved," I answered. "What are you doing here?" I asked after staring at him in awe. He was my past. And much like Rosalie, he was someone I thought I would never see again. He represented a good part of my life that I threw away.

"I came to see you." I playfully rolled my eyes at his vagueness. "I saw the pictures of the hospital. Even when you're drawing bunnies and rainbows, it's still top notch."

"I doubt you knew about the hospital. Seriously, why are you here?"

He took another sip of his drink. "About two weeks ago I received a call from a Mr. Edward Cullen, asking me if I knew you. It was a shock, let me tell you, when he mentioned your name. I think it had to be a full minute before I even answered him. Anyway, he told me about tonight and asked if I would please attend. How could I refuse the opportunity to see my favorite student at least one more time?"

I took three short sips from my soda, still trying to come to grips that Mr. Banner was sitting next to me. He knew nothing, I assumed, about anything that had occurred since I left school and just thinking about it while he was here made me feel ashamed. It was almost as if my own father was sitting next to me, wanting an explanation for the horrible things I had done.

"What happened?" he finally asked.

"It…it was just too much and I took the coward's way out and ran. I didn't know how to deal with my parents' death."

"I heard about that. My sincere condolences," he said sadly. Can I be honest with you?" he asked timidly. I nodded, lifting my head from staring into my glass to look at him. "I was so worried and I had no idea what to think. When _Ms. Hale_ didn't know where you were or what happened I thought the absolute worst. Frankly, up until Mr. Cullen called me, I believed you were dead."

"There were a lot of times I wished I were dead. At the time, I felt like I had no one in this world. I did things that I can never forgive myself for and I've put people through things that I could never _ask_ forgiveness for. I'm just trying to get myself back together now. Edward and Rosalie – I reunited with her, also – have been great, but there is only so much that I can be helped with. I have to do a lot on my own, ya know?"

He nodded thoughtfully. "What about one more person trying to help you?" he asked

"You've helped me by being here. It's so good to see you."

"Of course it is, darling." He nudged my shoulder playfully. "However, since you were…soul searching we'll call it, you never finished college. You only have about a semester's worth of credits you need for your degree. I can help you with that."

"How?" I asked skeptically. "I don't really have the time to go back to school. I'm working, I have therapy, and I'm trying to get back into my painting."

"I'm glad to hear all that. I may be able to get you to finish, though, through correspondence. I just have to talk to some people, but I don't think it'll be a problem.

"Yeah? You think you could do that for me?" I asked excitedly. I always wanted to finish my degree, but never thought it was something that could or would happen so soon. It was important, but it wasn't on the top of my list.

"I do, but I do have two conditions." He eyed me seriously.

"Should I be worried?" I asked nervously.

"Yes. The first one is that I need to know that you really want to do this – to finish your courses." He paused. I nodded my agreement. "Secondly, if I am able to get you enrolled again, and I'm almost positive I will, I want to be your manager."

"My manager? I don't have anything to manage except my schedule and I'm doing that pretty well on my own." I was a little offended.

"No, your manager as an artist – a painter. You want to get your name back out there and_ I_ want you to get your name back out there. I can help you do that. The talent and passion and obsession that you have is something I haven't seen since you left school. I've been teaching for a long time and I can honestly say that you were the best student I've ever had the pleasure of guiding. The art world needs you. What do you say?"

Was I ready for all of this? Taking college courses again, putting even more effort into painting which was inevitably going to take up even more of my time. Long days and even longer nights were sure to follow. Days will surely pass with me forgetting to eat. The bed sheets will remain cool since I will forgo sleep in order to perfect just the right hue.

Did I really want that life back?

"Yes."

MoBM

"You're a sneaky S.O.B, you know that?" I asked Edward as I wrapped my arms around him from behind. "Wonderful, but sneaky." I circled around him, but never detached myself from the man I had already fallen in love with. "How did you find him?"

"It wasn't really hard. He was still at the school and the only male professor that went by Banner. I thought it would be a nice surprise."

"Nice doesn't even describe it. Can I kiss you?" I whispered shyly.

"I'd love that." He lowered his head. He tasted like the bourbon he had been sipping throughout the night. It wasn't my favorite taste, but it was Edward and for him, I'd endure more than the unpleasant alcohol taste.

I removed my lips from his, but continued trailing kisses on his neck. I loved this man and just when I thought he had made up for his past indiscretions, he did one more thing to blow me away. I wasn't mad at him for the brashness he had treated me with, or the stereotypical negative light he saw me in. I didn't hold grudges and everything with Edward was water under the bridge a long time ago.

I blamed it on my euphoric mood, but I couldn't hold it in anymore. I didn't expect him to reciprocate, and I really didn't him want to say it back because he felt he had to. He could say it when or if he ever legitimately felt it.

"Edward," I said, placing one last kiss to his neck and holding him tightly. I was brave, but I wasn't that brave. I spoke into his ear, afraid to look into his eyes and see how it might truly feel. "I love you."

I could hear and feel the air leave his body as it tensed more than slightly. My brain worked quickly to relieve him of any pressure he might have felt to say it back.

"I don't expect you to feel the same," I continued to talk in his ear as I held him tightly, scared that he would try to break free from my grasp, "but I just needed to…" I trailed off as the devil with raven colored hair appeared with, I was sure, the she-devil clutching his arm.

I dislodged myself from Edward, his touch and warmth suddenly unwanted. With as little touch as possible, I turned Edward around so he could see who I was seeing.

"Who's that?" I pointed without the pretense of caring if I was being rude or not. Edward didn't answer right away and I could feel him boring holes into the side of my head, but still I didn't look at him. When I heard the rustling of his jacket, I knew he was finally acknowledging who I was inquiring about.

"That's Ericsson Yorkie, the son of one of our board members," he answered tersely. "Nice enough guy, I guess, but I don't know him that well. Probably not as well as you do," he mumbled. His comment sliced through me like a hot blade. The room was spinning and it was becoming heard to breathe. Edward noticed nothing and continued speaking. "That's his wife he's with. Ir-"

"Irina," I answered, cutting him off. I could feel the sweat beading on my forehead and my knees beginning to buckle. With pleading eyes, I finally looked to Edward. I needed help; I needed to breathe. However, Edward continued to stare daggers in Eric's, or rather Ericsson's, direction. He thought I willing slept with him. He couldn't see that I was slowly losing my shit and I needed to get out of here.

It was like Eric had sonar hearing. As I stood staring, trying my best to not appear like a gaping fish, Eric and his wife began walking toward Edward and me. His wife was absolutely lovely. She had a slander figure and ample breasts. Her fair was a beautiful golden blonde, pinned up elegantly behind her ears. He cheekbones were high and her skinned glowed.

"Edward. It's not to see you hear. Great job with all of this," Eric commented, motioning around the room. He turned his eyes – eyes that held a knowing and evil look- to me. "And who is your date for the evening?" He smirked.

"This is my girlfriend, Isabella," he answered, with a hard and guarded tone.

"I'm glad to make your acquaintance," he replied with a smirk. "I still have rounds I need to make, so Edward, take care and I'll see you soon." He leaned in close, placing a kiss on my cheek. "You clean up very well, Bella. I hope to see _you_ soon," he whispered in my ear. He left quickly without introducing Irina.

Everything I ate that day, and maybe even the whole week, was coming up. I ran from Edward's side, not caring if he followed or not. I ran to the exit, pushing people aside as they cursed and berated me for being so rude. I ran to where I remembered the bathroom being. I didn't make it to a stall, buy luckily, I made it to a sink before everything came up.

I heaved and coughed as bile quickly followed undigested food. The women that occupied the bathroom made hasty retreats, some saying they were going to call for help.

Help.

I didn't need help. I needed to just not be me anymore. I needed for everything to end. There could never be good in my life. Everything good was always taken away and replaced by something vile and hateful – something I had created myself.

When nothing but blood could be spit out, I sunk against the cold tiled wall, sobbing. My face was wet and I'm sure my makeup was smeared. My dress was covered in puke and spit and I was alone. I would always be alone.

Death isn't so bad when you're alone. You are alone, after all. Doesn't it make sense to die if you have no one in the world?

Why was I being jostled? Couldn't I just die in peace? Maybe on overdose would be the best way to go. Maybe I should say goodbye to Rosalie this time.

Why was there more jostling and why were there so many voices in my head? It would be just my luck that I would suddenly become schizophrenic. On the plus side, one of those voices sounded as if it belonged to Edward.

MoBM

It was warm and comfortable, way too comfortable for a bathroom floor. My head was pounding, though. I felt it in my teeth. If I could open one eye, I knew I'd be okay, but it was easier said than done.

I wasn't in the bathroom, I could deduce that much as I tried to get one eye open. There was also a body behind me that I hoped belonged to Edward, but I wouldn't be surprised to wake up on a sullied bed next to a disgusting stranger. It was life, after all, and life had a way of kicking you when you were down or knocking you down a few pegs when you were feeling good about yourself.

Everything about last night came creeping back with a vengeance.

I slowly turned my body to face the stranger so when I managed to open one fucking eye, I could peek at the owner of this heavy arm.

Finally,_ finally_, I managed to open both eyes, albeit very slowly. It wasn't a stranger that was wrapped around me, pleasantly, it was Edward. However, it was a very tired looking Edward staring back at me.

"Morning," I croaked out. He didn't say anything back so I tore my eyes from his. Maybe we were breaking up this time. Maybe Edward realized what kind of baggage he was really dealing with. Talking about it and actually seeing it with his own eyes were two different things.

Edward was disheveled looking, not rested at all. "There's blood on your shirt," I noticed as I continued to appraise the rest of him. "What happened?"

"Are you suicidal?" he asked instead, his voice hard.

My blood ran cold. Was that my blood on his shirt? I tried to focus my mind to see if anything ached, specifically my arms or neck. Aside from my head, nothing really hurt.

"Are you?" he asked again in a softer voice.

"No, I don't think so. At least I don't actively think about it anymore. Why?"

"Because you kept mumbling about dying and saying goodbye to Rosalie. Should I be worried that I'm going to come home and find you dead?" His voice was steel again.

"No," I replied as adamantly as I could in my current condition. "I just had a setback last night. I'll talk to my therapist about it at my next session. Is that my blood?" I asked about his shirt again.

"No." He removed himself completely from the bed and sat at the desk chair. I managed to slowly sit up and bring my knees to my chest. "Ericsson Yorkie is _the_ Eric, isn't he?" he asked, looking down at his hands that were busying themselves with the tie he never bothered removing.

"Yes," I answered, rubbing my eyes free of tears. There was an awkward silence that followed my confession.

"Are you going to the police?" he asked.

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "Is there any real point to it? If his father has money and clout, and I don't even know how important he is, then no one is going to believe me and, for shits and giggles, let's say they do, people like him don't go down for something like rape. It seems pointless to me."

"There is proof, though," he shouted, jumping up from the seat so quickly it toppled over. "There's still the rape kit!"

"So what? They'll ask why I didn't say anything sooner."

"You were scared! Besides, we still have Jasper's report and what he observed when you were brought into the hospital. Plus, we have Emmett's account of when he met you at the motel. Bella, you have to do this." He sat on the bed with me, grabbing my hands and holding them tightly. His eyes were begging me to go forward and make a claim.

"I don't want to do this alone, Edward," I choked out. As much as I told myself that I was okay with Edward not saying he loved me back, it still hurt that he didn't even acknowledge that I said it. Granted, I didn't give him much time to respond, but his initial reaction was all that I needed to know.

"You're not going to do this alone. I don't even know why you think you would. Haven't I tried to be there for you?"

"Didn't I scare you away yesterday, when I told you…well you were there."

"Yeah, I know." There was another awkward pause before he spoke again. "I was shocked, to say the least, but then there was so much more that came after that. I was pissed that you immediately asked about another guy right after you told me you loved me. Then I was _jealous_ that you asked about another guy. It wasn't until you were gone for at least a minute that it clicked – you knew Irina's name – that Ericsson was _that_ Eric. Then it was like a blinding rage."

"You were talking nonsense, or what I hoped was nonsense, about dying and killing yourself. It got me thinking about not having you around, and I didn't like how that made me feel." He began rubbing the spot on his chest over his heart. "You're incredibly smart and passionate, caring and forgiving. You're fun to be around and very easy to talk to. I was thinking about everything last night while you were sleeping, and I don't know if what I'm feeling is love, but I know whatever it is, it's strong. I don't want to say I love you until I know for sure."

"Fair enough," I agreed. "I won't take mine back, though."

He offered me a small smile. "I don't want you to."

"Can you come lay back down with me?" I asked, still tired from last night and with a headache that had yet to dull.

Edward stood up, removing his tie and un-tucking his shirt from his slacks. He wrapped an arm around my waist and I closed my eyes as I snuggled into his hard, but comfortable body. I opened my eyes and was met with the blood stain I noticed earlier.

"Whose blood is that?" I asked, although I had a pretty good idea.

"Eric's."

He offered nothing more and I wasn't in the mood to pursue it any further at the moment.

I could feel my eyelids getting heavy and I was fighting to keep myself awake. I had one more thing to say.

"If I go to the police station, will you go with me?" I asked before I faded into sleep.

"Of course, Bella. I'll be there from the second you make the claim until the second that asshole is put behind bars."

Maybe it was too soon, and I was putting all my eggs in one basket, but his words were all the reassurance that I needed that things would be okay. Have I mentioned that I loved Edward Cullen?

**AN: Beta'd by SerineinNC. I added after she sent it back, so those mistakes, along with all other mistakes are my own. All things Twilight belong to SM.**


	31. Chapter 31

**AN: Yous still with me? Great, thanks! I received so many great and encouraging reviews the last chapter. I'm a shmuck for not responding to all of them, but I FLOVED them.**

**This chapter is unbeta'd as my beta is out of town. I wanted to get it out, though, so when she gets back, I'll replace this one with the beta'd version.**

"Where's the farthest you've ever traveled?" Edward asked as he played with a lock of my hair that was sprawled across his plump pillow.

For the past two hours, we've been holed up in his room, on his bed, while he asked me the most random and silliest questions. It was the first time I was invited into his bedroom to stay the night. I wish it was on better terms that I ended up snuggled up to his side.

Before I was lead into his bedroom, Edward found me curled up in my own bed. I thought I had been quiet in my crying, as I was trying my hardest not to be heard. Apparently, I wasn't as quiet as I had thought.

It was three weeks since the run in with Eric and I had yet to actually do anything about it. I told Edward that I would go to the police, but it was easier said than done. In the meantime, I could see – and feel – Edward's patience running thin. He was trying to hide it, but I could see the tick in his jaw and hear the deep, frustrated breaths when I said I needed just a few more days. After time, though, I gave myself a deadline, and tomorrow was it.

I tired telling myself that I was doing the right thing. I _knew_ I was doing the right thing. I took the hottest shower that my body would allow, trying to scrub the filth from every pore, needing any remnant of my previous life to swirl down the drain with finality. There would be no conceivable way any officer would believe my story if I left any trace of the miscreant I used to be.

But it wouldn't go away.

I felt the dirty claws of every man I ever let touch me. Every germ riddled bench I slept on, every disgusting trash bin I stuck my hand in, every dingy alley that I hid in lived within every skin cell and no amount of scouring could rid any of it.

My body was red and raw when I crawled in my bed, trying to hide from the demons that shadowed me. When it became too much, I stuffed the heel of my hand in my mouth, bit down, and cried. It wasn't a soothing cry. It was a cry that was calling for my mother to hold me. A cry calling to my father to protect me. A cry calling for freedom that it seemed I was never allowed.

It was a cry that brought Edward to me.

"Paris," I answered. "After I sold my first piece, I used that and some money that I had saved and paid for Rose and me to take the trip. It was my dream, at the time, to go to The Louvre. Have you ever been there?" I asked Edward. He shook his head no while wearing a sweet smile. "It was the most disappointing thing." I smiled ruefully.

"Really?" he asked surprised, his head lifting off the pillow a bit..

"Well, I mean, don't get me wrong. How many people can say they've seen the Mona Lisa in person?" I tried to explain. "But it was just so hectic. I don't know why, but I wasn't expecting that. The Mona Lisa makes me think of tranquility, serenity – so when I was pushed around by people trying to get a better look, it blew my mind."

"It still must have been something else, though. To be there."

"Are you kidding? It was like a religious experience. It's like…think of the Holy Shroud of Turin, assuming it's legit," I clarified. "People flock to be in the presence of an inanimate object. You don't go to see these places hoping that you're going to get an autograph or a meet and greet. You go just to _see_; to witness greatness. That's what the trip was for me."

"And Rosalie?" he asked. "Did she like it?"

I snorted. "Rose didn't give two shits about it; not that I even wanted her to go with me. She was there was the shopping and the food. She gained eight pounds on that trip. Good times," I sighed.

"Would you ever go back to visit again?"

I didn't have to think long before I answered. "No," I said firmly. "I've learned the hard way that life's too short so I would want to go places and do things that I haven't before. There's a lot of this country alone that I always thought I'd get to see. There's Rosewell, the Holocaust Museum in D.C., the Bodies Exhibition in New York, walk the Golden Gate Bridge. Once upon a time I was going to do all that."

"You still can, you know," he said while running his hands through my hair.

I shrugged a shoulder. "I suppose." I began playing with an invisible thread on the pillowcase, nervous and refusing to look at him. "Would you want to, uhh… go with me to any of those places if I were to ever go?" It was presumptuous of me to assume we'd be together that long but if I could choose someone to travel with me it would be Edward.

"It depends. Would you ever go to a rodeo with me?" he asked seriously. I looked up to see his smirking face.

"Seriously?" I laughed.

"Fine. I'll settle for a bar with a mechanical bull."

Despite my wariness for tomorrow and the skepticism that came to mind about the duration of our relationship, I found myself laughing for the first time in weeks. It was wonderful.

MoBM

Why did they have me wait in the small, grey room when the officer wasn't ready?

True to their words, both Edward and Dr. Maggie Brash had accompanied me to the police station. I called her two days ago and asked if she was free to come. I honestly thought she wouldn't be able to come or suddenly remember a prior commitment she couldn't break. I was just as grateful for her as Edward.

It would have been preferable if I could have just sat and waited with them outside, instead of sitting in the interrogation room like some criminal. I guess on some level I was a criminal, but that was before.

My leg began bouncing and my anxiety was building the longer I waited for someone – at this point anyone. The longer I waited, the longer I had to think. Thinking wasn't good. Thinking gave me the opportunity to second guess my decision to press charges.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Ms. Swan," the police officer said as he walked into the drafty room while looking down at a file. I don't know what I was expecting, but he wasn't it. He was a very handsome, older man with a full head of salt and pepper hair. He had a very chiseled and strong jaw. His skin was surprisingly sun-kissed for someone living in Washington. I assumed he had just returned from vacation.

"No problem," I mumbled, although it was a huge problem. Thirty more seconds and I would have bolted.

"Okay, well," he began as he took a seat across from me. His voice was strong and confident, but not authoritative. "Just for the record, I'll be recording our meeting. Alright?" He placed an ordinary digital recorder at the center of the table.

"Sure." I shrugged. As if I really had a choice in the matter.

"Good. Okay, so let me explain how this is going to go. We'll begin with your recollection of the event in question, followed by some of my own questions. With me so far?" He asked. I nodded quickly. "Good." He organized a legal pad in front of him at an angle – he was left-handed – turned the recorder on, and began speaking.

"Detective Albert Joles. It is April 14, 2013." He stopped to look at his watch. "9:17 AM. I am here with Ms. Isabella Swan. Ms. Swan, can you please, in detail, recount what occurred on January 3rd, 2012."

With a deep breath, I began from the beginning. "The day before the incident I was approached by a man I knew…"

It took two and a half hours, including two breaks, to tell Det. Joles everything. I held nothing back, as I didn't want any omissions to come back and bite me later. I told him what I knew about Ericsson and about James involvement. At first, I was hesitant you use James' real name lest I get him in trouble, too. In the end, though, I realized that the more "witnesses" I had, the better for me. I told him about past homelessness and prostitution. I told him about my current living situation and occupation. I hoped that he would see that I wasn't another junkie or scorned lover trying to get revenge on a pimp or ex-boyfriend.

He asked me – wanted me to make it _completely_ clear – that I said no.

"And there's a rape kit already?" he asked for clarification even though I had already mentioned that also.

"Yes."

"Good, good," he muttered while taking down notes on his legal pad. I watched as he continued to scribble on the pad.

"So what happens now?" I asked when I finally could take the silence anymore. The ticking of the clock and the scratch of the pen to paper was deafening.

"Well, an order of protection will be put in place immediately and he'll be brought in for questioning." He scanned his note quickly and sighed deeply. Surprisingly, he turned off the recorder. "I'm going to be honest with you, Ms. Swan, it was a smart move to get the rape kit done when you did. That, and James, are you're strongest bets of putting this guy behind bars – assuming that he is guilty."

"Will it go to trial?"

"It's hard to say at this point, but it's a probability. Do you have a lawyer?" I shook my head no. "Get one, because I can guarantee that he will lawyer up. And I have no doubt that they will try to assassinate your character and the validity of your story."

"I'm screwed, aren't I?" I asked out loud.

"No, not necessarily, but it won't be a cake walk." He stood up, gathering his things, and I followed his lead. "Ms. Swan, I'll be in touch."

MoBM

"Are you sure you're alright?" Edward asked for the seventh time in as many hours. It was endearing in the beginning, but now it was just annoying the hell out of me.

No, I wasn't fine, but that didn't mean I wanted to talk about it either.

"I'm fine," I answered. "I just need…" I didn't even know what I needed anymore. I thought that maybe finally reporting the rape – getting it off my chest – would help, but it didn't. I actually felt worse. I felt dirty all over again. Having Edward around didn't help, either. He was hovering and breathing down my neck. He meant well, I knew this, but still. I _didn't_ need him asking me if I was okay. "I just need air."

Without waiting for a response, I grabbed my jacket and keys.

"Well, wait a second and I'll go with you," he replied. I held back from huffing in annoyance.

"No. I need to be alone; get my mind right," I gently countered.

"But it's almost nine. Walking the streets this late isn't the safest thing," he argued.

The irony in his statement.

"This is me we're talking about. There's nothing out there that I haven't encountered already," I laughed dryly. "I just want to clear my head, okay?"

I need see the twitch in Edward's jaw; the one that told me that he most certainly wasn't okay, but he wasn't going to fight me, either.

"How long do you think you're going to be? And make sure you have your phone on you."

"Not long. An hour, if that," I said, at the same time pulling my phone from my jacket pocket to show him I had it with me. I walked over and kissed him lightly on the lips. "Thank you. I'll be right back."

The night was cool, almost perfect. It was clear enough to see a few stars that littered the sky and the blinking lights of passing airplanes. I was enjoying the open space and anonymity that the street provided me, so I was unsure of how I found myself entering a dirty looking bar. It was stereotypically small with a pool table in the far corner and a juke box in the other.

I walked to the bar, unsure of how to even order anything other than a beer, but I didn't want that. I wanted something stronger- faster working. I stared at the various bottles behind the bar. I recognized a majority of them, but only knew the taste of a few of them. The pussy in me wanted to order a slushy pina colada and carefully sip it to avoid a brain freeze. I didn't even know if a place like this made pina coladas.

Using scientific methods, I choose which ever one my eyes landed on when I finished a silent 'Eenie Menie, Minie, Mo'.

"Jose Ceurvo, please," I told the balding bar tender. I took the piss-looking liquid and sat at the farthest seat at the end of the bar.

I sniffed the contents of the glass and scrunched my nose in disgust. It didn't stop me from taking a sip, though. It was a familiar, but none at all pleasurable, burn. I snorted in disgust at the irony of it all.

Tequila. It seemed like tequila always played a part.

With a great amount of effort, I down the rest and shoved the offending glass away. Drinking still wasn't for me, but it was what people did when they needed to forget their problems, so that's what I did.

I sat at the bar and people watched. After awhile it became a game that I was either winning, or more likely, losing. Every time I saw someone flash a fake or condescending smile, I took a sip of the apple flavored ale that was actually pretty tasty. If someone genuinely laughed, I took two sips. If someone looked like the world was crumbling at their feet, I sent a silent salute and took a long pull.

The longer I played, and the better I became at locating the unaware players of my game, the fuzzier the playing field became. Smiles became grimaces, laughter became screeching, and depression became resolution.

"They're on to me," I mumbled to myself. "They're watching me, too." I narrowed my eyes in suspicion, hearing all the hushed words that they were talking about me. I didn't need this, though. I had a man at home that didn't love me, yet, but wanted to fuck me eventually.

I stumbled my way home, avoiding the cracks in the sidewalk that had deepened and widened while I people watched. I tried walking around telephone poles that teleported themselves to rest in the middle of my path, mocking me with their girth. How did one walk around a pole that shared the same circumference of the Earth? It was impossible without bumping into meteor rocks and satellites that had taken the shape of humans.

"Bella?!," I heard as I rummaged through my ever growing deep pockets for my keys. I was right in front of Edward's building when the man, himself, materialized in front of me.

"Lover!," I slurred, throwing my arms around his neck and peppering his face with sloppy kisses. "I missed you. Where'd you go?"

"Are…you drunk?" he asked, looking aghast.

"Do you know what's a funny word? Aghast. Like, what kind of word is that?," I laughed. "Aghast…aghast…a ghost," I laughed again, holding my belly.

"Let's get you upstairs."

"Oh, I like the sound of that," I purred drunkenly. I ran my hands up and down his chest, feeling the hardness that I had yet to familiarize myself with sans clothing.

"To sleep, Bella, to sleep," he corrected sternly. "And to sober up," he added.

He guided me into the building and into a waiting elevator.

"I don't need sleep, you know. I used to do a lot of things without sleep," I pouted. On my tiptoes, I brought my lips up to whisper in his ear. "I used to fuck even though I went without sleeping. I could fuck you." I slide my arms up his chest again and dug my fingers into his soft hair.

He detached my arms from his hair with an angry look on his face. "That's enough, babe."

The elevator dinged and in too quick of a motion we were entering his apartment. The movement made me slightly nauseous and very dizzy.

"We're going to my room?" I asked playfully when I noticed what direction we were heading. "So you changed your mind. I like that."

He sighed loudly. "No. You're going to change into some sleep clothes and I'm going to get you some coffee and something to eat." He sat me on the bed and with a kiss to the forehead he walked out of the room.

Oh, yeah? I'll show him.

With slow, and somewhat careful movements, I undressed myself. Everything was going alright until my foot got tangled with my pant leg. I was about to fall right on my ass, but was able to catch myself on the mattress.

Taking my bra off proved to be more of a problem and I couldn't remember how I usually did it. My arm was twisting in weird and painful ways, but for the life of me I could get the clasp to give.

"Motherfucking fucking shit…how the hell does this thing work? God…damn…torture…device." I continued wrestling with the stupid metal clasp.

Finally giving up with the enhanced protection bra, I gave myself a once over in the mirror. My eyes were glassy and bloodshot, but in the past I managed to score a quick john looking worse.

"Ed-wardo," I cooed as a fumbled down the hall. I found him in the kitchen with his back turned to me. "Hey, honey," I called.

"Yeah?" He turned to look at me and dropped the roll of paper towel he was holding.

"I look good, right?" I did a twirl that had the room continuing to spin when I already stopped. "I tried taking the top off, but it wasn't budging." I shrugged. I closed the small gap between us, wrapping my arms around his head and into his hair. I brought my lips to his which he greedily enveloped with his.

My tongue danced with his, the taste of coffee was still strong. I moaned into his mouth when I felt his thumb brush against my nipple. He freed my breast, and began pinching my nipple between soft touches. With his other hand, he rubbed between my legs. I pulled him closer, wanting to feel him go deeper.

I broke away from his mouth his, but trailed my tongue from his mouth to his neck, inhaling deeply along the way.

"I can make you feel good," I whispered before biting down on his ear. People use to pay me to make them feel good. Maybe he forgot that. "I'll give it to you; you won't have to take it from me."

Edward stopped moving in my arms; I was losing his interest. I had to think fast, but my thoughts were watery and blurry. Way too slow and inconsistent.

"If it'll make you feel better to steal it, I'll let you. Just love me back, okay?"

"Bella, stop!" Edward commanded. "You're drunk and clearly not thinking straight." He was angry. "Let's go to sleep."

"Can I sleep in your bed tonight?" I asked, fighting to stop the tears from becoming more than just a sting in my eyes.

"No." He shook his head sadly. "I think…it's better if you sleep in your bed tonight."

"You don't…want me?" I whispered. Slowly and painfully I was beginning to sober up.

"I'm sorry." He shook his head. "Not tonight and not like this. C'mon, let's get you to bed." He walked me to my room. "Do you want a shirt or something?"

"Yeah, please." He grabbed one of my sleep shirts and pulled it over my head, careful not to touch me any more than necessary.

MoBM

"What the hell was I supposed to do, Rose?" I heard Edward asked, irritated. I could hear Rosalie huff over speakerphone.

My head was pounding, my stomach ached, and my mouth tasted like gunk. Sleep didn't come easy last night and only after tossing and turning for half of it, did I manage to fall asleep. The worst part, though, was that I remembered everything from last night. Why couldn't I be one of those people who got drunk, did stupid shit, and couldn't recall any of it the next morning?

"You didn't have to push her away," she argued, her voice gruff with frustration.

"I didn't push her away," he scoffed. "She basically gave me permission to… you know. I didn't know…" He stopped talking when he heard the shuffling of my feet to get away. I couldn't listen to him recount the details of last night. Not only where they private, but they were completely humiliating and not something I wanted Rose to know about.

I climbed on top of my bed, bringing my knees up to my chest. I wasn't surprised to hear a knock on the door less than a minute later.

"How much did you hear?" he asked when he took a seat next to me. He grabbed my hand closest to him, holding it between his.

"Not a lot, but enough," I answer honestly.

"Do you remember last night?"

I nod. "Yeah," I croaked out. I turned to look at him. "You can say the word rape, you know? It's just a word that doesn't mean anything unless you give it power," I began softly.

"Does it have power over you?" His voice is hesitant, as if he was unsure if he was offending me with the question.

"No," I answer, shaking my head. It's true. As bazaar as it may seem, it's not what physically happened to me that kept me up at nights. It hasn't made me leery of men or afraid of my own shadow. Being raped didn't make me feel like a victim, or have the sudden urge to go protesting in D.C., shouting that I didn't ask for it.

"So then what happened last night? Why were you so upset? It was the statement, wasn't it?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know. Well, I mean, what's the point in doing all of this? Nothing is going to happen to Eric. He's him and I'm me." I shrugged again, but this time I felt the all too familiar sting of tears. I wiped them away before they fell. "It's just," I rasped around the lump in my throat, "I don't want people to look at me like _that_- like I'm the pariah. They're going to whisper that it was my fault and that I brought it upon myself. I know I agreed to meet him, and _that's_ my fault, but I said no, Edward. You believe me, right? That I didn't want it to happen?"

"Bella! Bella, calm down," he instructed, wrapping his arms around me. "You sound like you're about to have a panic attack." He squeezed me in a side hug and kissed the side of my head. "I know you weren't a willing participant and others know that, too. I know you think that nothing is going to happen – that justice won't be served – but you have to have faith that things will work out."

I snorted at his choice of words. "Faith? Really?"

"Yes, faith. You may not have it, but I do. I don't know how this is all going to pan out, but I refuse to believe that Eric is going to get away with this."

Edward was so sure. I would laugh if I didn't think it was rude. Honestly though, I was grateful that someone had faith in me, because in the end, when everything was said and done, I would need someone to help me pick up the piece as I was pretty sure I wouldn't survive this.

**AN: This story is coming to an end. I would estimate about 5-7 chapters left, but we'll see. **

**To my American readers and friends, have a safe and happy 4****th**** of July.**


	32. Chapter 32

**AN: So I'm going to try something different. I'm going to try going to for shorter, quicker, and un-beta'd chapters. I figured it was better than waiting months for longer chapters and have to offer apologies in every AN. Plus, this story is almost over anyway. So yeah… Remember, it is un-beta'd.**

"Bella!" Edward's knocking eventually morphed into hard bangs on the door. Double checking to make sure he hadn't jimmied it opened somehow, I turned my headphones up to an ear bleeding volume while Adema reminded me of all the reasons I had to give in.

I stared at the blank canvas that mocked me from its perch on the wooden tripod. It's all I had managed to do for the past two weeks. More than once I was tempted to pierce it, making sure to leave noticeable fissures. Make it impossible to mend. Some things weren't meant to be salvageable.

Four songs and one headache later, I finally removed the headphones that left a ringing and an itch in my ear. I searched the room for Edward's laptop but came up short. He had been letting me borrow it since I began my correspondence with Prof. Banner. I didn't know how he managed to pull it off – I was scared to ask - but he was able to get me the course work and materials that was scheduled for the summer sessions. The arrangement was for me to take the three required classes, plus one independent study, for my degree. Though I was doing the work now, I didn't have to hand it in until the end of the summer classes. Even my physical attendance in the class was not required. However, weekly updates were to be given via e-mail. It was a bit complicated, but it worked for me.

"Where the hell is that computer?" I asked no one.

"Bella?" Edward called again, startling me. He wouldn't go away.

I opened the door, ignoring the look of concern on his face. "Did I return your computer?"

"When are you going to talk to me?" His voice showed just how agitated he was, but how patient he was trying to remain.

"I am talking to you. Did I return it? I can't find it." I sidestepped him and made my way to the living room. Our conversation focal points were not on the same page recently, so avoidance was the best tactic. Not necessarily the healthiest, though. I heard his footsteps following me.

"You haven't been to therapy," he stated as if _I_ wasn't aware.

"I've been busy." I made of show of looking for the laptop that was probably in his room.

"David's been calling." He tried a different approach.

"I've e-mailed him." I passed him again, heading to the kitchen. This condo used to be spacious, but it seemed that since I've been trying to avoid Edward, the unit shrunk in size. There was only so much time I could spend in my room while he was home.

"Bella!" He grabbed me by my arm, swinging me to face him. "Talk. To. Me. Talk to _somebody_ about this." I pulled my arm roughly out of his grasp.

"There's _nothing_ to talk about," I seethed. "You quicker you drop it, the quicker we can move on. That's all I want – to move on."

"God dammit!" he yelled, slapping the counter top with his open palms. His sudden outburst had me shaking on the inside, but I refused to show him any emotions that he was urging me to express. Trying my hardest, I kept my face neutral. "It's bullshit, and you know it! You want to act like it's not a big deal when you know that it's killing you on the inside. Why can't you just talk to someone about it? What can it hurt?"

"What can it help?" I screamed back, losing my cool. I took deep, calming breathes. "Look, it's over, okay? We tried and we lost. I'm done."

Edward came around the counter, pulling me into his arms for a tight hug just in time for his sweater to absorb the tears I hadn't allowed myself to cry until this very moment.

"Oh, honey," he breathed. "We didn't lose. We haven't even started fighting, yet."

"He's gone," I reminded him without pulling away. "There's no one to fight except each other."

Was that what I was doing? Fighting Edward because the real enemy escaped? About a week after I had given my statement at the station, I had received a call that Eric was out of the country on an extended vacation with no definite return date. Since he wasn't charged with a crime, they couldn't exactly say he fled the country, but the timing was too coincidental. Though I had no proof, I believed that he was tipped off. The excessively rich, especially those who were less than honorable, always had people of power in their pockets. The evidence against him was too substantial to ignore. However, since the police had no DNA to compare to the kit, nothing much could be done until he got back. I didn't know much about the law and how things like this worked, but I was pretty sure that _something _could be done to either get him back in the country or obtain his DNA.

It was because of set-backs like this that I gave up so long ago. I had to remind myself why I bothered.

MoBM

"God…dammit, Bella," Angela huffed before closing her eyes and taking a calming breath. I could see that she was trying to temper down her frustration. I doubted it was working. "That's the third batch of cookies you've let burn," she reminded me.

"I know," I answered monotonously, only serving to further her irriatation.

"That was today. Yesterday you destroyed a wedding cake while leveling it out. The day before that, you put too much sugar into the cinnamon rolls, making them inedible. I want to know what's going on with you."

"Nothing. I'm just not as good as you expect me to be," I explained.

"Bullshit, Bella!" Her tone was stern, but her expression softened. "You gotta tell me what's going on. Talk to me."

"Thanks, Ang, but there's nothing to talk about. Everything's peachy." I walked around her to the sink. Turning on the faucet, I made concentrated work on scrubbing the flour from underneath my nails. Unfortunately, Angela followed, leaning against the wall next to the sink eyeing me studiously and her arms crossed at her chest.

"I've noticed that you having been coming in early. When was the last time you've seen your therapist?"

I shrugged. I stopped going the same week I found out about Eric. What was the point? I was going to work out my issues and I no longer _had_ issues. The only one I did have was in another country unknown to me. Why discuss something that can't be fixed or resolved. I was as good as I was going to get.

"Why don't you head home," she said, lifting herself off the wall and walking away.

I spun around quickly. "Are you firing me?" I asked with a little bit too much anger than I should have allowed myself. In reality, with the way I had been messing up around here she had every right to give me the boot.

"Did I say I was firing you?" she bit back. "Look, take the rest of the day – tomorrow, too, if you need it – and just…chill. You don't want to talk to me or let me help you, fine. However, I would appreciate it if you didn't fuck with my business in the meantime. Take some time to get your act together before you come back to work, because frankly, at this rate you're costing me more money than it's worth."

I stared at her retreating form as she made her way back to the front. As pissed as I was at the moment, I couldn't begrudge her. I had it coming and I knew that Angela didn't normally behave as she just had. She had to be beyond irate.

I dried my hands, gathered my things, and walked out the door without uttering a word to Angela. I had nothing more to say to her and I'm sure she had nothing that needed to be said to me.

MoBM

"Edward," I called out when I got to the apartment. Last night he had told me there was a chance he might be home early. Apparently, it wasn't the case. "Speak of the devil," I muttered as I looked down to my vibrating phone alerting me to text from Edward explaining an emergency surgery.

Edward would have been a nice distraction right about now. I could literally myself slipping into sadness, despair, and maybe even worse, absolute nothingness. It was the empty feeling that allowed me stand on street corners and faceless men siphoned my humanity with every touch. When I was empty inside I wouldn't get hurt, I wouldn't care.

Laying out an old bed sheet Edward had allowed me to use, I began setting up to paint in the living room. Just as I finished the toned ground, my phone vibrated with an incoming call. The number was unfamiliar, but the area code was local. Using the only clean fingertip, I slid in across the screen to answer and immediately put in on speaker.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Hi, Bella," said the familiar, but unrecognizable voice. "Long time no see."

"…who's this?" I asked warily.

"I should be hurt," the voice mocked. "It's James."

My bold ran cold, freezing the rest of my body. I couldn't think, couldn't move, couldn't react.

"Listen," he began seriously, the amusement suddenly gone from a second ago. "I need you to get down here – to the motel."

"Wh-why?" I stuttered when I managed to find my voice.

"Because if you want Eric, you'll find a way to get your ass over here," he growled before hanging up.

I stared at my phone as the call disconnected and eventually went back to my home screen. I should have questioned the call and how he got my number in the first place. I should have put some thought into going and calling someone to come with me, but I didn't do any of that. Abandoning the mess scattered in the living room, I grabbed my phone and bag, and called a cab.

Thirty five minutes later, I was standing in front of what I could only describe as my own hell on earth. There were too many daunting memories that this run down set of bricks invoked, some obviously worse than others.

The bell above the door that announced the presences of others so many times in the past still chimed proudly. Everything in the small, dingy lobby remained the same, but places like this had no monetary or visitor gain in renovating.

The only unrecognizable thing I saw was the back head of the person behind the bulletproof partition. That was until said head turned around.

"James?" I questioned dumbly. His shoulder length ponytail had been replaced by a shorter, more stylish cut. He was clean shaven without any hint of stubble that was almost a constant before. His clothes looked new and unwrinkled. He looked cleaner, neater…sober.

"Didn't even know it was me, didya?" Even his smile looked brighter and more genuine. "Come in." He opened the door and ushered me into his makeshift office. Gesturing toward a sit, he placed a cup of black tar that he tried to pass as coffee. "If you add a lot of cream it's not so bad." He shrugged and placed vanilla flavored creamer in front of me after adding some to his own cup.

"I didn't come here for coffee, you know." I tried not to sound impolite; though I'm sure no one would blame me if I did. I just wanted answers. "What do you know about Eric?"

He took a seat opposite me. "A lot…enough." He didn't sound smug, but rather grave, as if he didn't _want_ to know what he did. "Like I know that he's in this motel as we speak."

"What?" I shouted as I jolted up from the chair. I spun around, searching the room as if I would find him hidden in the corner. "He probably saw me come in!" I was frantic and for the first time convinced myself that I shouldn't have come alone. What was Eric doing here when he was supposed to have fled the country? How was it possible that he fooled the cops and avoided detection? He wasn't exactly someone that shied away from drawing attention to themselves.

"Sit down, shut up, and let me explain," James ordered angrily. "And he didn't see you come in unless he was lurking the hallways, which I doubt. He's holed up in a back room overlooking the alleyway."

Stupidly, I sat back down knowing that it was possible that Eric could walk through that door any minute.

"Make it fucking fast James; I'm calling the cops." I pulled out my phone, realizing for the first time that my hands were still the color of burnt umber.

"No, you won't." James snatched the phone from my hand. "I said let me explain."

"So go," I yelled, effectively freaking out.

"He checked in early this morning and started asking a lot of questions about you. I wasn't going to give him a room after he fucked me over, but money talks. I doubt he was aware of the visit the police paid me." He raised a single eyebrow at me, wanting me to question he's last statement.

"You're a witness," was all I offered nonchalantly. "It could have been a lot worse for you if I hadn't told the detective that you weren't aware of Eric's intentions," I defended.

He held his hands up. "I'm just saying that they paid me a visit and asked for my statement. Like I said, I don't think Eric knows about that. Anyway, he asked me about you and when I had nothing to offer he produced this." He slid a piece of yellow legal paper across the table. My cell phone number was scribbled across it. "He told me to call you and get you over here."

"And you just did as he asked knowing about the investigation?" I was completely disgusted with him. More so than ever before.

"No, I didn't!" He was angry now. "He wanted me to call him as soon as I reached you to let him know you were on your way. I haven't told him, yet. Consider this your warning. Eric is three floors up and I doubt you'd leave this motel safely if he knew you were here."

"What'd he pay you to get me here?"

"The money he jerked me out of and another fifty grand – cash."

"And why haven't you alerted him, yet?"

There was a deep sigh and for the first time since I got here, James looked remorseful and maybe even saddened.

"My mother three months ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I offered genuinely. While I could certainly sympathize with his loss, it still didn't explain what one had to do with the other.

"Her death shook me to the core. She was a good woman and a great person. People used to say that she reminded them of Linda McCartney and just like Linda she died of breast cancer. Me and her had a big falling out when she found out I was using. I ran away from home and every time I did she'd drag me back until one day she just…didn't. She said that when _I_ was ready to return home, she'd be waiting with open arms. I guess I wasn't ready until I found out she had succumbed to the cancer. It was a wakeup call, I guess you could say."

"Forgive me if I sound insincere, but am I supposed to believe you just changed?" I felt for the guy – I did – but it was hard to believe that the James I knew for so long was passing himself off as a better person now.

"I took the money didn't I? Some things never change, I guess." If I wasn't staring at him in pure disbelief, I would have missed the faint blush the colored his cheeks. "I also met someone who is pretty fucking important to me. Her name is Victoria – Vicky. She was the one who told me about my mother. She was her nurse. Apparently, my mother still talked a lot about me. She told Vicky about "her little James". Anyway, one coffee date led to another and we've been seeing each other ever since. I'm clean five weeks now. She's good for me. You're seeing someone, right?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, hating him for bringing up Edward in such a dirty place. Even the thought of Edward while lounging this environment was offensive.

"All I'm trying to say is that I get it now. I understand what it means to have someone so important to you that you'd put your priories aside to make sure they're okay. _That's_ why I'm warning you about Eric. If Vicky was in your situation, I'd want someone to give her the opportunity to get her justice."

"So now what? What do I do now?" This was not a position I ever thought I'd find myself. I wasn't lying when I told Edward that I gave up. I was convinced Eric was a lost cause. Could it really be that I had a chance to have Eric put behind bars?

"Well, the way I see it is that you have two choices. One, I can call Eric and you act like you have no idea what's going on and take your chance. Or two, you call your boyfriend and have his ass get down here and you two decide what to do with Eric.

I sat stock still pondering over what to do. Did I involve Edward in something that had no guaranteed outcome, possibly pulling him away from something important, even life or death, at the hospital? Or should I take care of it myself?

With a decision finally made, and hoping my resolve didn't weaken, I finally stood and headed for the door.


	33. Chapter 33

**AN: Two quick things. After this chapter there will be one more and then the epilogue. Secondly, this story was never about how quick B/E would end up in bed or how far can I drag out the Eric story line. This was a Bella story and her finding her way. Did I achieve it? IDK, but I hope I did.**

**Quick recap: James informed Bella that Eric was at the motel waiting to talk to her.**

I just stepped onto the second floor landing when common sense smacked me in the face. What the fuck was I doing? Who was I trying to play the hero for?

I rejected both of James' options and went with my own. Why couldn't I ambush him; take Eric by surprise?

Because he'd easily kill me, that's why. And if he didn't kill me I'm sure Edward would for attempting to go to Eric alone. I'd be lying if I said that was my only motivating factor for not going any further. Things were different now - I wasn't alone in this world like I once believed. There were people who truly cared whether I lived or died. Acting alone would be selfish, and admittedly, really fucking stupid.

Hiding in the first floor's dingy stairwell that smelled like stale piss, I crossed my fingers and hoped like hell Edward answered his phone.

"Fuck," I whisper-yelled when he hadn't picked up the second time around. Finally, on the third attempt I left a message explaining the best I could of the situation I had gotten myself into.

"I'm...really sorry, Edward. I love you," I added as an afterthought. I hadn't said it again after that initial time. I didn't want him to feel pressured. I had faith that he would tell me when it felt right to him.

If he ever felt it…

"Hey, Jasper, it's me, Bella," I began on his voicemail, giving a condensed version of what I had told Edward's.

Next, I texted Emmett asking him to let me know if he got in contact with Edward.

I made my way back to James, completely irresolute with what I should do with myself. Hanging out in his office until Edward called wasn't really safe, but neither was roaming the streets.

"Finally thinking with that head of yours?" James asked when I reentered his office. He was perched on the desk, failing miserably to peel an orange. Frustrated and annoyed, I grabbed the orange from him and finished removing the skin and picking the rind he left behind. I needed to keep my hands occupied or I was likely to strangle him… or punch a wall.

"Shut up. Just because you had this goddamn epiphany doesn't mean you know anything," I sneered.

"Maybe not, but I know that it would have been incredibly stupid for you to go see Eric alone." He was calm and smug and twenty seconds from getting himself junk punched.

"You didn't tell him I'm here, right?" I questioned. He may have claimed he'd turned over a new leaf, but I only had experience with the old James. The new him couldn't be completed trusted.

"No, but he has called down asking if I've gotten in touch with you yet. I told him it keeps going to voicemail. Sounds pretty pissed off, if you ask me."

"I don't doubt it." I took a seat in the cushioned chair that had the least amount of springs sticking out. "I don't know what to do. Edward isn't answering and I can't wait around here 'til he does."

"What about 's? They keep their doors open most of the time now. Kill time over there."

"And what, pray?" I laughed. "I'm good, thanks."

"There's the warehouse..." He trailed off. Thankfully for him my phone rang before I could tell him what I thought about that idea. I stepped inside the gross bathroom.

"Bella, It's Jasper. I'm at the hospital. What's going on? I couldn't really understand what you were saying in your message. I think I got the gist of it, but I'm _really_ hoping I'm wrong." His words rushed together in a flurry.

"No." The quiver in my voice was apparent. "He's here and I don't know what to do. I've called Edward and you and Emmett." I was close to hysterics and losing the cool I had been faking up until now. "If he knows I'm here he'll kill me and I don't want to die, Jasper."

"Bella, listen! You're not going to die, alright? Stay hidden somewhere. I'm going to send an urgent page to Edward and we're going to get you, okay?" I nodded dumbly. "Have you called the cops?" Jasper was calm and thinking rationally. Calling the police had never even crossed my mind.

"No. I'll do that now. What should I say to them?" I was feeling like a criminal with all the hiding, whispering, and planning.

"The truth. Explain the situation as simply as you can, but stress the urgency of the call. Either Edward or I will call when we're on our way."

"Okay...okay." I was anything but okay, but I had perfected the act a long time ago.

"And Bella?"

"Yeah?" I croaked out.

"_We're_ going to handle this together; that's what family does. Everything _will_ be okay; you just have to let us help you this time around."

My hands were shaking and my head was spinning. I needed to compose myself before I called the police and stepped out of this bathroom. Nothing helped to calm my frail nerves. Cracking every knuckle out of impatience and worry, I wore my fingers out. Each one ached, but continued to take the useless torture that was inflicted upon them.

I almost didn't feel the vibration of the phone before it was too late. "Hello?" I answered anxiously without a passing glance at the unfamiliar number.

"Don't go anywhere!" Edward screamed in my ear. I had to pull it away. "I'm on my way. Hide if you have to but don't go far." I could hear the frenzy in his voice.

"I'm in the bathroom. I was about to call the police. He's asking about me, Edward! He knows I went to the cops and he's going to kill me. I shouldn't have done it." I was talking more to myself than Edward. "It was stupid of me and now I'm going to die because of it. I was just trying to do what was right, but it wasn't right because now I'm going to die. I should have just forgotten about it and moved on with my life." My words were just as rushed as Jaspers and probably made no sense to Edward.

"One, you're not going to die," Edward forcefully said on the other end of the line. "And second, you _did_ do the right thing. I can guarantee you would have never forgotten about this, you still won't. _When_ he's behind bars, you will be able to move on."

"What do I do, Edward?" I cried, slowly sliding down the wall. "I'm scared," I admitted loudly.

"Do what you're doing now – hide out and wait. I spoke to Jasper really quickly and he told you to call the police. I'll call. Just hold tight," he instructed.

"Okay." I sniffled and wiped away errant tears.

I heard a deep breath, a sigh, and hard footsteps from Edward before he cleared his throat.

"Um…this wasn't how I wanted to do this, but maybe it needs to happen this way." There was another deep breath before he began again. "I just want you to know that I think you're being incredibly brave and smart. I know it's scary and you probably feel alone at the moment, but I'm so proud of you. For right now and how far you've come along. I just…I want you to know that I love you, Bella. I wanted to take you out on a date, make it special for you because you deserve everything to be special. But I want you going into this knowing that I do love you and that no matter what happens today, I'll be by your side."

"I love you, too," I whispered, absorbing his declaration as the tears continued to stream freely. Though I can admit that the time wasn't the most convenient, I'd be lying if I said it didn't mean just as much or didn't help in the slightest bit. I wasn't ready to play superhero, but I felt a little more assured.

"Hang on, Bella. I'm coming to you."

I heard the call disconnect and brought the phone to my face and continued to stare at it as if I could summon all of Edward's words back. It was needless, though, as the only three words that mattered most were seared into my memory.

I rested my head back, closed my eyes, and just breathed. For the first time since I had heard that Eric had – no matter how the cops choose to phrase it – escaped, I felt like I could really breathe. My shoulders didn't feel as heavy, my heart didn't ache, and my soul wasn't shattered.

"Bella, I'm coming in," James said just above a whisper. I heard him come in but refused to open my eyes. In the blackness behind my lids, everything was peaceful and as it should be.

"You've been in here for awhile now. Edward has to be close. Do you want me to send him in when he comes?" I nodded in response. I listened as he shuffled back to the door and closed it with a muted thud.

I listen to the sounds outside; any sign of Edward's or Jasper's arrival. Eventually, and unknowingly I drifted off to sleep to be woken up by soft rasps on the door. I blinked, disoriented and unsure of exactly when or how I even fell asleep in the first place.

Clumsily, I stood up and opened the door before realizing I didn't even know who was on the other end.

"Oh, dear God, Bella." Edward wrapped me in his arms and held on tight. I could feel moisture on my neck where his face was buried. I did the same, unashamed of any weakness I showed in front of him. Relief washed over me like tidal wave as we held together in this position.

Edward pulled back first, clutching me head between his hands. His eyes roamed my body frantically. "Are you okay? Hurt anywhere? Have you seen him?" He kept firing questions quicker than I could comprehend.

"I'm fine. I'm fine," I replied unintentionally harshly. Everything was overwhelming and his frenzy was making me a little crazy. "I'm sorry," I breathed. "I just need a minute to process that you're actually here." And that he said he loved me.

"Of course I'm here." He pulled me into a hug again.

"What do we do now?" I asked.

He took a deep breath. "I've called the detective so he's on the way. Jasper is in the lobby making sure James is okay. I think-"

"Wait, wait, wait." I cut Edward off. "What happened to James?"

"I punched him," he replied unapologetically. "He deserved it and don't tell me otherwise."

"Why?"

"Because he played a part. If it wasn't for him you would have never met Eric. And let's not even go into all the time he took advantage of your previous situation. He's a dirtbag."

I leaned my forehead against his chest so he couldn't see my smile. Yes, James deserved it, but I couldn't help feel a little bad. He was trying to help us, after all, and it wasn't as if I hadn't allowed myself to be taken advantage of.

"Go on." I motioned with my hand, still unable to hide my amusement.

"I think that we should wait until the cops get here. I'd feel better if we had protection."

I nodded, but never one of us moved from our cramped space. Even in this dirty bathroom, I was content – happy – simply because Edward was with me. Two years ago, as I hustled the streets with Jane, I could never imagine being this happy with another human being.

"You ready to get out of here?" he asked. "As much as I love holding you, the ammonia smell is making me dizzy," he chuckled, humorlessly.

"Yeah. God, I could use some comfort food right about now," I sighed.

"Chinese?" he asked, laughing."

"Yes!"

Our amusement was short lived as I spotted an angry Eric standing in the middle of the small lobby. He was yelling at James who was being held back by Jasper. I stopped short, causing Edward to push into me, and gasped too loudly catching Eric's attention. Edward saw what I did and grabbed my hand tightly. He walked in front of me, pulling me lightly behind him.

Though his eyes were narrowed and tight, I could see the fire behind them. The unadulterated fury.

"Bella," he sneered. "I see you're still making your rounds." He turned his attention to Edward. "Edward Cullen, huh? I wonder if the board knows that you employ the services of whores."

I felt Edward begin to pull away. Fortunately, I was holding on tight enough to pull him back before he reached Eric. "Edward, don't. Please," I begged. Edward couldn't afford to get into a confrontation, and I'd be lying if I said that I didn't need him near me to feel safe.

"What do you want, Eric?" I asked from behind Edward. Out of my peripheral vision, I saw Jasper step out of the small room behind the counter and stand feet away from Eric, his hands fisted and ready to fight.

"I think you know what my problem is, whore. Going to the cops? Really?" he growled, his calm, if not tense, veneer finally cracking.

"You ra-raped me," I stuttered. I was still coming to grips with that term.

"Don't flatter yourself. I didn't do anything that you didn't show up for. Did I not pay you?"

"I told you to stop-p." My lips began to quiver.

"I don't recall you saying anything of the sort." He stepped closer as did Jasper. I could feel Edward square his shoulders. "What I will remember is you dropping this false rape claim. If you know what's good for you." He stepped closer yet again. So much so that I could reach around Edward and strangle him myself.

"Is that a threat?" Edward snarled.

"It's a guarantee," Eric promised.

Before I could react, Edward pulled his fist back and connected with Eric's cheekbone. As he staggered back, Jasper came from behind, pushing Eric's body to the ground, getting one good kick to his ribs before the chime above the door sounded. As Eric lay writhing on the floor, both Edward and Jasper took a step back from the spastic body.

As he walked through the door, Det. Joles looked around the area suspiciously. Jasper made his way to us and Eric was making his way to his feet. James, who had remained quiet behind the glass looked like a deer caught in headlights.

"I guess I was late," Joles deadpanned.

"I want to press charges against these two men," Eric spat, staggering slightly. "I was assaulted unprovoked."

Det. Joles looked from Eric to Edward and Jasper. Jasper looked panicked and guilty while Edward held firm and unapologetic. "Self-defense?" the detective asked, quirking a knowing eyebrow.

"Yes," Edward answered sternly.

"I figured." Joles marched to Eric, handcuffing his hands behind his back.

"What the fuck is this?" Eric thrashed against Joles, making it difficult to lock the cuffs. "Do you know who the hell I am?" With an "accidental" elbow to the side, Joles was able to restrain Eric more efficiently.

"No one leave," Joles instructed as he tried to maneuver a resisting Eric. He came back quickly. "Now, I want to know what really happened." He took out his small note pad and jotted down quick points from everyone. With his finger, he motioned with his finger to follow him. I followed him after a look of reassurance to Edward.

"Are you okay?" he asked when we were alone.

"A little shaken up, but I'm fine. What happens now?"

"Well now that we have him, we have to get him to give a sample of his DNA. I expect a visit from whatever powerful attorney he has in his pocket. I can't tell you it's going to be an easy ride from here, 'cause it won't be. We need you to stay strong through this process and trust the legal system." I gave him a quizzical look. "I have a good idea of what was supposed to happen. Too often, victims try to take matters into their own hands. Sometimes they get away with, but more often than not our victims end up behind bars or, even worse, dead. I'm glad Mr. Cullen called us."

"Thank you," I choked out.

"It's all going to work out, Ms. Swan."

After Det. Joles left, Eric in the back seat, it was as if we could finally breathe freely. A dark cloud that, while not completely lifted, slowly began drifting away.

James startled me when he came up behind me and reached his hand out to Edward. His nose was stuffed with tissue that was spotted with blood – heavier in some areas than others.

"No hard feelings?" James asked with his hand still outstretched.

Edward looked at it warily before accepting. "Yeah. Sorry about…" he made a circular motion around his own nose. "And thanks for warning her about Eric."

"I had it coming. I'd so the same thing if it was my girl." He shrugged. "And I figured I should help right a wrong. I told the detective I'd help however I could."

With tight and affectionate embraces, Edward and I said good-bye to Jasper.

Edward grabbed my wrist before I could open his car door. "It wasn't just heat of the moment before. I meant it. I do love you, Bella."

"I know," I said with a watery smile. "I know."

I wanted to say that I was walking away from James and that motel and closing a door that I never had to open again, but I knew that wouldn't be true. If this thing went to trial, I was almost positive James would testify. It always seemed to be a wait and see circumstance.


	34. Chapter 34

**AN: Because it's been forever since I updated, a quick recap of the last chapter. Bella met Eric at the motel where she eventually called Edward for help. Also, Edward finally told Bella that he loved her. That's the important stuff to take away from it.**

**This is the final regular chapter. There will be an epi left and then this story will be marked complete. **

**This chapter is un-beta'd as you'll probably be able to tell as you read.**

**All things Twilight belong to S.M.**

"So um…" I listened as Angela did a horrible job of beating around the bush. She was like this all day. She'd open her mouth to say something, but then quickly close it. I was trying to be patient with her, but it was toward the end of the day and I was already stressed out about the upcoming night.

Edward and I were having our first official date. To say I was nervous was an enormous understatement.

"What, Ang?" I snapped, throwing the dishrag on the countertop and crossing my arms.

I could see her lack of appreciation for my tone. She sucked her teeth, but bit back whatever bitchy response I knew she wanted to say.

"Have you've been back to the therapist?" she asked instead.

"Is that what you've wanted to ask me all day?" I responded with indignation.

"Yeah," she replied in a 'duh' tone. "I was curious."

I look at her accusingly. Why was she so curious? "No, I haven't. Do you think I need to?"

She rolled her eyes and walked across the room and began sweeping up odds and ends that littered the floor. She stopped mid-sweep and glared at me.

"Yeah, you know what? You do need help because your attitude fucking sucks. You're either pissed off at the world or too in your head to actually communicate with me. If you want out, if you're too good for this job now, there's the door. Let it hit you on the way out." She let the broom crash to the floor and violently pushed the doors open. I listened as she opened the register and took the drawer out. I watched as she stomped to her office and slammed the door shut.

"Fuck," I cursed under my breath, pulling at my hair simultaneously. I marched into Angela's office without knocking. She was at her desk angrily counting the day's take.

"Look," I began, pulling a chair out and sitting down. "I'm sorry. I'm not intentionally trying to be a bitch. I haven't gone back to Dr. Brash because I'm trying to figure things out in my head first." Angela stopped counting and looked at me like I was stupid. "I know it doesn't make sense, but…I just need to be in the right place before I can go for help. So much has happened that I need time to compartmentalize." She went back to counting her money, but I could tell she was still listening. "And I don't want to quit…or get fired," I continued. I didn't miss her small smirk. "Then there's the date tonight." She was wearing a shit eating grin.

I knew that would get her.

"Are you excited?" she asked giddily, crushing the money in her hand, her previous temper out the door.

"I am, but holy shit, I'm scared," I responded honestly.

"Why?" Her face had fallen comically.

"I haven't been on a date in…I don't even know how long. Plus, it's Edward! I want to make a good impression. His last girlfriend? A total fucking bitch, but she oozed class when, you know, she was being a total fucking bitch."

"What does that have to do with you?" she asked, one eyebrow raised as if daring my to answer wrongly.

"Hello." I knocked on her desk. "Homeless chick here who wouldn't know her ass from her elbow in a fancy restaurant. There's like ten different forks and fourteen spoons to be used before you even get to dessert." I could see the struggle Angela was having as she tried to remain stoic. "Ever seen Pretty Woman? The part where she send that snail thing flying? Well that's gonna be me, except our waiter isn't going to take it so lightly."

The silence in the small office was interrupted by Angela's shrill laughter.

"It's not funny," I laughed out as I throw a stack of Post-Its at her. "This is serious." I smiled. "Maybe I should cook dinner for us at home? Take some of the pressure off," I suggested.

"No," Angela shouted at me, the fear of God in her eyes reflecting back at me. "Don't. Do. That."

"I'm not that bad, anymore. Alice and Rose have been teaching me some things," I defended.

"Yeah, well it's a good thing you're not paying them because I'm conceived you're un-teachable."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you almost blew up my kitchen when you tried making baked ziti. Baked ziti, Bella! All that is, is boiling water and stirring shit together. A toddler could do it, yet the experiment ended with a visit from the fire department. I seriously don't get how you can bake, but you're a fire hazard when it comes to carbs, dairy, and sauce." She shook her head in shame. "Do you even know where he's taking you?" she asked.

I pointedly ignored her not-too-made-up recount of that horrible night and answered her question. "No. All he said was that I should dress casual," I replied.

Her face became blank while blinking a few times. Without warning, the Post-Its came flying back my way, catching me in the chin.

"What the hell was that for?" I rubbed where she caught me.

"You went on this whole diatribe about not knowing how to behave in a fancy restaurant and you're telling me he told you to dress casually? What the hell is your damage?" she laughed. "Why would you think he's taking you to a restaurant?"

"I don't know," I grumbled. "It could be casual night or something."

"Bella, I love you. You know you're my girl, but you're an idiot when comes to this guy. You… over think things."

She was right. I knew she was right, but it didn't make it any easier to _not_ over think things. This date meant a lot to me. I wanted to think it meant a lot to Edward, too, but I didn't want to make assumptions, either. I'm sure that his dating experience was vastly more developed than mine.

Along with the regular jitters that accompanied first dates, there were also the expectations that followed a first date. There wasn't a worry of whose house to go back to since we lived together. It also wasn't as if I hadn't already kissed him or seen him semi-naked. However, would Edward expect to finally take that next step in our relationship?

Did_ I_ expect it?

"Hey, Ange?" I called out somberly. Her previous look of amusement was quickly wiped clean. "Don't laugh, okay?" I was already on the verge of tears. She shook her head slowly. "If…if you were Edward, would you want to sleep with someone like me? Like, could you bring yourself to have sex with me?"

On the street, as an occupation, I tried mightily to disconnect when I had a client. There was no arousal, no feeling, and especially no emotions. Unless it was utter disgust. But I wasn't on the streets anymore and Edward wasn't a customer. However, how easy – or difficult - would it be for Edward to look past that part of me when put in such an intimate and sexual position? Would he imagine every other guy I was with before? Could he realize that any sexual encounter between us would be nothing like my jobs?

"Oh, sweetie!" Angela dropped the money on the desk before coming around and wrapping her shoulders around me. After, she settled for kneeling in front of me. "Edward knew this about you already. It's not something you'll be springing on him tonight. If the two of you get to that part I'm sure it'll be a conscientious decision. He's a smart man, who I want to believe, doesn't think with his small head. However, if he allows the night to lead in that direction only to say that he_ is_ bothered by your past, then I think you need to reevaluate the relationship." She wiped away an errant tear. "And honestly, there are many guys and girls out there who have slept with tons of people just because." She shrugged. "More importantly, though, do _you_ want to sleep with _him_?"

I rolled my eyes to look at the ceiling, ashamed of my answer. "Yeah," I replied, refusing to look at her.

"Why do you sound embarrassed about that? Edward's a hot guy." I appreciated the lightness in her response, but it did little to ease the guilt.

"I don't know. It's just that…after _everything_ that's happened I feel like I shouldn't want to. Or can't. Like I should be traumatized. You hear about how women can't get close to a guy because she was a victim of sexual assault of some kind or another and then here I am acting like everything's gravy. Shouldn't I be wary or something?"

"What kind of horse shit is that?" Angela practically shouted. I laughed despite myself. "Who said you have to feel a certain way? There are also cases of females, and males, becoming overly sexual for the same reason. Explain that." She shook her head. "Look, I'm not a doctor so I can't reason why you would behave or feel a certain way, but what I can offer is that maybe you feel this way is because it's Edward. You're not just jumping in the sack with him. You know him. You trust him. That makes a world of difference."

"So it doesn't make me a slut?" I sniffled.

She grinned deviously. "I love Ben, but Edward can turn any girl into a slut if he tried hard enough."

MOBM

"Am I dressed okay?" I asked Edward, my arms out to my side so he could inspect my attire more thoroughly. His eyes trailed from oversized button-down sweater to the knee length boots that covered my jeans. His inspection was uncomfortably long causing me to fidget and wonder exactly what it was that he was critiquing so carefully. Maybe it was my hair. Maybe a complicated up-do would have been more stylish than simply being clipped back.

"Am I not dressed appropriately? Should I go change?" I asked, pointing behind me to my bedroom. "It's my hair, right? Is it really frizzy?"

I knew it. How could I expect to know what it takes to date someone, a successful doctor no less, if I couldn't even dress the part? Even my hair couldn't pretend for one night.

"No, no, no, no," he answered quickly, shaking his hands in the air. "You're fine. You look wonderful. I'm just having a guy moment?"

Looking at him strangely, I asked "What's a 'guy moment'?"

"It's that smug moment when you look at your girlfriend and realize that she's freaking hot. I have a hot girlfriend," he replied with a lazy smirk.

With all my might I tried not indulging him – amusing his inner teenager – but my smile and heated blush could not be stopped. To prevent myself from becoming even more embarrassed, I rolled my eyes and walked away. I heard his footsteps behind me before I felt his arms wrap around me and left up. He swung me around playfully, making me squeal in surprise, before kissing my neck.

"I'm serious," he laughed. "You're beautiful. And I haven't even gotten to the part where I tell you your ass looks great in those jeans."

MOBM

"So are you going to tell me where we're going?" I asked as I buckled myself into his car. Never had I been so excited and nervous at the same time. This one night meant more so much to me, despite having no clue what we would be doing. He could be taking me to McDonald's playground and I'd cherish it.

"Actually, I am. I wasn't going to at first, but if you'd rather not then we can change plans," he answered.

"I'm up for anything." I reached for his hand and held it tightly in mine. This felt normal, good, and so real.

"Well," he began, chuckling, "wait until I tell you before you say you're okay with it. I scheduled an appointment at a galleria. Ever been into ceramics?" he asked timidly. He was cute when he lacked confidence.

"Really?" I asked with false distain, playing on his shyness. "I mean, I guess that's okay. I took a whole year of pottery." I feigned disinterest, enjoying his squirming. Not that he deserved it, but it made me feel a little better inside.

"Oh. Well…okay. Dinner isn't for another three hours…" he trailed off. I could see the sheen of sweat on the steering wheel where his hand changed positions.

"Edward." I called his name sternly when I saw his jaw begin to twitch. His eyes quickly shifted to mine before focusing back on the road. "I'm joking. Alright? I'm joking," I chuckled trying to ease the tension.

His jaw went slack before his turned his whole head to me for a brief second. "Are you serious?" he asked, groaning. "I was racking my brain for something else to do and coming up empty,"

"I'm sorry," I laughed, although I'm sure that he didn't find it as funny as I did. "I was a little stressed out about this date so I needed some kind of retribution."

"You stressed out?" he asked incredulously. "Ask Jasper what a mess I was at work. Thankfully I didn't kill a patient on my watch." He shook he head but finally managed a smile.

"Why were _you_ nervous?" I was equally disbelieving.

"I don't know…because it's you? Because I haven't put so much thought into a date since high school? Because I didn't want to be another tool that took you on a cliché art date? Pick whichever you like best."

I continued to stare at him – scrutinizing every facet of this man. How could someone, who at one point had been so cruel, turn into someone that deserved more love than was fathomable? He was unlike any other man I had ever met, let alone ever dated. While the date wasn't completely original, I knew that it was completely heartfelt – not just a chance to earn brownie points with me. I could never express my gratitude or love to this man enough. Even if one day he woke and realized that he could do so much better, my heart would always belong to him.

Edward, who unbeknownst to both of us, had the power to make or break my fragile and deteriorating existence.

"I would love to create with you," I confirmed adoringly, stroking his hand with my free one. "I took an instruction class once, but it was just to get a feel for it. It was interesting, but painting was where I wanted to be so I never really went further with it. It'll be interesting to see how I fair."

"You'll probably be great at it like else thing else," he countered.

"Probably," I teased back, feeling the lightest and happiest I've felt all day.

MOBM

If I wasn't aware before, I came to the realization that Edward was one of those humble braggarts. He claimed he wasn't artsy in the least, but the vase he sculpted out looked pretty amazing to me. The shape itself wasn't anything too fancy, but the intricate lines and slopes set it apart from the more common vases of the other guests around us.

He was obviously having a good time, and very proud of himself. Never once was he not wearing a smug smile when I looked over at his working station. I was having a ball, myself. Maybe it was the company, but I didn't remember enjoying pottery this much before. It had seemed tedious and pointless. Now, it was almost refreshing and actually helped give me a new perspective on my own painting. The colors and shapes and patterns circulating around me implanted new ideas in my head that I hoped I remembered when I was in front of a canvas again.

"I think I'm done," Edward proclaimed proudly. He stood back, hands on hips, and inspected his masterpiece. "Not to pat myself on the back, but I think I missed my calling." He smiled broadly and winked when he caught me rolling my eyes. "Don't be jealous, darling. Your…water pitcher…looks great," he laughed.

I reached over and smacked his shoulder. My lamp looked nothing like a water pitcher and he knew it, too. The electrical components would be installed after.

"My _lamp_ looks awesome. Don't be jealous that all your doctor hands could create was a vase. I'm sure your mother would be proud of this third grade quality project."

"Third grade this," he proclaimed before rushing behind me and tickling my neck with his lips. I yelped in surprise and, honestly, exuberance that he showed affection so easily in public. I would also be lying if I said that I didn't get some sick satisfaction from everyone seeing that Edward – handsome, giving, caring, successful doctor Edward – was with me. "I don't think my mom would want to know about this," he whispered before licking me from collar bone to ear. I groaned too loudly to be appropriate. I didn't fail to feel the twitch in his pants as he was pressed against my backside.

Getting my wits about me, I pushed him away and turned back to my work. "Leave me alone, devil. I have to finish. This lamp right here?" I began while smoothing out the clay. "This is going to be better than any bootleg tiffany lamp you can find in Battery Park." He laughed heartily before taking his vase to the oven.

When he was busy with the instructor, I took a scalpel and made an inscription on the base. Even if we didn't last I had would have something to remember this date forever. Something that time couldn't fade away as the remnants of this date one day might.

MOBM

"Have I told you what a terrific night I had? That dinner was amazing? Have I said thank you, yet?" I asked as we climbed up the floors in the elevator. I held on to his hand with both of mine and practically hung onto his arm. Any distance between us right now was just too much.

"Only about four times," he replied seriously. "I think I'm due for at least two more times." He smirked down at me before kissing my forehead. "You're welcome, Bella, but stop thanking me. This was for me, too, and I had a great time tonight."

We walked quietly, hand in hand to his apartment. "Ms. Swan, would you like to come in?" he asked with a wave of his hand when we reached the door.

"Will I be clued in on the inner workings of your mind in there?" I asked imploringly, balancing back and forth on my tip toes and heels.

"Trust me; no one wants to know what goes on in my head." He opened the door and with a flourish he signaled for me to enter first.

Once inside I removed my bag and shoes, eager to free my toes from the constricting boots. "I'll be right back," I called over my shoulder as I made my way toward my room. Immediately, I removed my sweater and the tank I had underneath. My bra was killing me and that was next to go.

"What did you say?" Edward opened the door but stopped mid-step. His wide eyes zeroed in on my naked chest. Maybe it was shock, or maybe because I just didn't want to, but I made no move to cover myself. I let him look, hoping that what he saw appealed to him.

Gathering himself minutely, he was able to tear his gaze away from my breasts to look me in the eyes. I looked back, unable to look anywhere else. His steps toward me were measured, hesitant. Careful.

When he was right in front of me, his hands reached out and cupped my face. Bringing his head down, his lips met mine in an intimate kiss. One hand moved down to graze the side of my breast.

"We don't have to do this," I warned him. His wandering hands ceased its movements. I had enough regrets in life and I didn't want to be someone else's. "I'll still take care of you." His hands held my face once again, but instead of bringing it closer to his own, he put more space in between us.

His eyes held a world of anger and hurt that matched my own. "What is that supposed to mean?" he asked gruffly – his voice a mixtures of desire and curiosity.

"I just…" I buried my face between his neck and shoulder, ashamed of the tears I couldn't hold back. I shifted slightly so my words wouldn't come out muffled. "I just don't want you to regret me later. My past and everything."

He took a heavy breath, contemplating his words. "Let's just get this out of the way and not talk about it again," he began, not as angry as I first assumed. "If I was going to let your past come in between us I would not have allowed this relationship to get as far as it has. There wouldn't have been any exclusivity and there certainly wouldn't have been any declarations of love. I know I'm not perfect, but playing with a woman's heart isn't something I'd do." He brought me closer, wrapping his arms around my naked back. "Your past is right where it needs to be, just like mine. We don't need to have this conversation every time we take a new step in this relationship. I'm yours, Bella, with everything included." He placed a kiss on my shoulder. "Now, please let this be the last time we talk about this." He raised my chin with his finger, quirking an eyebrow - silently asking if we were in agreement. I nodded my approval.

Walking us backwards, he laid me down on the bed before removing his shirt. He hovered over me before beginning a trail of kisses starting from my neck to my belly button. Slowly, he unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them down carefully, brushing his fingertips against my bare thighs and legs. When the denim was finally discarded he kissed his way back up, leaving a wet, hot streak as he climbed up my body.

"Let me love you," he whispered breathily before capturing my earlobe in his mouth. He sucked lightly before releasing it with a small bite.

My breaths came in quick, heavy pants as I processed everything he was doing and saying to me. I watched intensely as he worked back down my body, this time discarding the only piece of material that was left. My body was heated, flushed, and ready for whatever he was willing to give.

After my underwear was thrown…somewhere, he looked at me through his lashes, smirking devilishly. I smiled back, equally confused and excited and the potential of what could be swimming in his head.

He ran his hand up my thigh, inserting two fingers into my wet passage. I gasped and arched my back off the bed.

In and out. In and out. In and out until I was on the brink. I clawed at the bedspread and pillow. Anything I could grab. Eventually, coming to my senses, I reached for Edward. I pulled him down by his hair to kiss me again. This time it was more fervent - more urgent and needy.

My hands eventually left his softer than usual locks and trailed down his body to his jeans. I unbuckled them with haste, ridding him of denim and cotton. I reached for his very erect phallus. I began stroking knowingly. I flexed my wrist to reach parts that my fingers could access simply wrapped around him. My pace quickened when his did until he ungraciously pulled away from me, taking his fingers with him.

"What did I do?" I asked around my quickly tightening throat. What had I done wrong? Was it too much too soon, even though he didn't seem to have any qualms about touching me?

"Nothing. Nothing," he answered through clenched teeth. "_I'm_ sorry. I want this to be about you, not me. Let _me_ bring _you_ pleasure, Bella."

My smile returned along with my eagerness to be with him in the most carnal way. He hovered over my body once again as he brought his hand down to touch between my legs.

"I _want_ to touch you," I told him before grabbing him again. The weight and smoothness felt good in my hand. It being Edward made it even better. I watched as his face morphed and scrunched in pleasure. His eyes closed tightly and his breathing picked up erratically.

"Edward," I breathed. "I'm ready. I'm…ready." It was no longer a want, but a desperate need for him to be inside me.

Coming closer, he kissed my swollen lips and entered me at the same time. For a brief few seconds, neither of us moved, taking in the fact that we were finally united the way lovers should be united. When he finally began moving, his trusts were measured and even. Slow and sensual.

When he dipped his head down I thought it was give me another kiss. However, much to my surprise he took my hardened nipple between his lips, sucking ardently before letting go with a gentle bite. I moaned loudly, much more stimulated than I was ever used to. I held on for dear life when he continued the same with the other.

He trusts picked up speed, but his body never got too far away from mine. I could feel his heart beating against mine. The perspiration that glided along the planes of his chest gave him an ethereal shine as it emphasized his understated muscles..

"Bella...Bella..." he chanted like a prayer sent up to heaven.

I clawed at his back, frantic, needing him closer – deeper inside of me.

I loved this man who was loving me so thoroughly.

I pushed him away slightly, clueing him in that I wanted him to stop. His face twisted in displeasure, but obliged nonetheless. With his help, we changed positions.

I straddled him, slowly sinking unto him. I closed my eyes, luxuriating in the feel of him inside me once again. With my hands on his chest I lifted myself up and down on him. It was an excruciating pace –which his face clearly indicated – but I needed this connection with him more than I needed to orgasm.

I leaned forward enough that Edward remained inside me, but could hear me clearly. "I dreamed of you when I had no one but myself," I began whispering in his ear. My eyes began stinging with tears that weren't completely unwelcomed. I swirled my hips when I felt him stiffen underneath me. "I wish more for you than I do for myself." A stray tear fell from my eye unto his lips. I bent further, kissing the saltiness away.

I straightened up again, quickening my pace to bring Edward the release that I knew he needed. For myself, however, I wasn't chasing the end result. Being with him was truly enough for me. Edward's hands tightened around hips as his trusts became quicker and deeper before he stopped altogether. He wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me close as he sat up. My legs wrapped around his back, readjusting our position.

"Baby," he panted in my ear. "_This_ is what I want. I want us to be happy together." With one hand holding the back of my head and the other on my hip, he began trusting faster yet, bringing himself to the relief that he'd been craving.

I could feel the moment he reached his plateau. His movements became erratic before slowing down. He lay back down, taking my body with him. I rested on his sweaty form, taking everything in.

"I'm sorry," he finally croaked, his voice dry and raspy. "You didn't finish, did you? I couldn't stop myself from coming."

"Shh." I kissed his lips, stopping him from saying anything else. "I'm fine. This was…" I stopped talking to take a shuddering breath. "It wasn't perfect, but it was beautiful and nothing I've ever experienced before." I looked deep into his eyes. "I've never made love before." I smiled shyly, and somewhat embarrassed at the stupid confession. I rested my head on his shoulder.

He began rubbing my back soothingly, slowly causing me to relax enough to sleep. My lids grew heavy as I'm sure my body was on top of Edward's.

"Me neither, baby. Thank you for being my first," I heard him say before sleep got the better of me. I smiled against his chest, confident that he could feel my happiness.

I continued to lie on top of him as sleep eluded me. Overtime, my heartbeat synchronized with the rise and fall of his chest. Our previous activity played on repeat in my head. Every stroke, caress, and kiss. Every show of absolute love and devotion from two people who didn't deserve each other, but belonged together.

"Thank you for not breaking me."

**AN: So they finally did the deed. Honestly, the reason this chapter took me so long was because I suck at romance and lemons. If it sucked, I apologize, but I'd still like to know what you thought.**

**Like I mentioned above, one more chapter before I mark this bad boy complete!**


	35. Epilogue

**AN: On to the epilogue. Crazy that I'm finally hitting the complete button on this one. It was a journey that took me up and down and I'm so appreciative of the readers who stuck along for the ride.**

**All things Twilight belong to SM (giving her credit one last time since I failed to do it so often)**

"Are you nervous?"

"On the verge of pissing myself," I answered Alice without looking away from the mirror. I applied a third and forth coat of lip gloss just to occupy my hands. I was shaking like a leaf and the opening was still an hour away. I was waiting for Edward to finish dressing so we could ride together to the gallery.

She hopped off the table she was sitting on and walked over to me. She grabbed the tube and wand from my unsteady hands. "This is going to weigh your head down if you add any more."

I wanted to rub my face in frustration but I remembered the small amount of makeup I was wearing.

"I just want to get this over with. I don't think…I'm not ready for this."

"It's been four years, Bella," Alice began in the motherly admonishing voice she miraculously picked up when she found out she was pregnant three years ago. "How long do you want to put off this debut?"

"It's not like it's going to be how it once was. My name isn't big enough anymore. On top of everything else, I feel like I'm doing a huge disserve to Jane - like I'm airing out her dirty laundry."

Tonight was my "reemergence", as Prof. Banner liked to call it. After all these years, which included getting my college degree, I finally agreed to have a certain collection showcased. Tonight, four of the five pieces of "The Diary of Jane" would be on display for anyone to critique and evaluate. That fifth piece, however, was mine to keep private and hidden.

"I don't see it that way and I don't think David does, either. I doubt that he would have convinced you to use _those_ knowing what he does about your past." She gave me a knowing look, as if she dared me to disagree. I wasn't going to, but she continued on. "What is this _really_ about, Bella?" Her look was scrutinizing; her stare willing to pull whatever it was she thought I was hiding.

I scoffed at the ridiculousness. "This isn't about anything." I was simply scared of the inevitable failure.

"Mmhm. Well, you know what they say – when the going gets tough, Bella gets going," she quipped sarcastically.

I nodded, suppressing an exacerbated sigh. "I apologized for that, Alice, and you forgave me." I pointed at her. "As did everyone else. It's not fair that you're throwing it in my face since it has nothing to do with tonight," I defended myself as I felt my temper rising. In all honestly though, it hurt more than I would admit that she brought up such a hard time in my life.

Eric's trial had dragged on longer than I or anyone had thought it would. He was charged with rape and aggravated assault. _Everything_ about me was brought into question. Even Prof. Banner was called to the witness stand, much to my colossal embarrassment and shame. It seemed like every detention and speeding ticket I ever received was dug up. My name was praised before it was harshly yanked down and dragged through the mud.

But I was expecting all that and was ready for it. What I wasn't ready for was to hear Emmett's, Jasper's, and Edward's testimony. I wanted to claw my eyes out and rip my ears off. I had practically chewed my nails off – more than one time drawing blood.

I cried. More for them than myself. For what I had put them in the position to do because of my own stupidity. During those days I realized how much of a miracle it was that they had ever forgiven me.

Eric was found not guilty of rape, but guilty of the assault and later sentenced to ten years with the possibility of parole after five.

I was scared,hurt, and confused so I did what Alice accused me of. I ran. I could admit now that I didn't go about things the right way, but I just needed to get away and be alone. I went to the only place I knew to be familiar. I went home to Forks. However, I didn't tell anyone I was leaving.

I was in Forks three days before Edward crashed through my parents' front door. He found me huddled on my parents' bed; his tear streaked face matched my own. We stayed another four days before I was ready to face my sins back in Seattle.

I'd been seeing Dr. Brash every week since.

MoBM

"Bella," Prof. Banner began, "I need you to meet these people. They're very interested in your _Jane_ collection. I really think you should talk with them." He had a very intense look, telling me with his eyes that meeting these people was_ not_ something I was going to pass on. However, he underestimated my willingness to part with any of the pieces. I had made it clear that they were not for sale and no amount of money would sway me.

"They're not for sale, _David_," I sneered. Making sure no one was paying any particular attention to us, I continued. "_Don't_ do this? You've been a great manager so far, but I will fire you," I threatened through clenched teeth. Edward, who had stayed with me all night, pulled me against his body and gently rubbed my back.

"Calm down, sweetie," he whispered in my ear.

Banner was taken aback, but any shock was quickly replaced with anger. "When have I ever lied to you, Bella? I've kept my promise at every turn, even when you didn't. Now you listen to me. You _will_ meet that couple over there and you _will_ answer every question they have, no matter how ridiculous." He glared – begging me to defy him. My respect for him ran too deep and caused me to swallow my pride and agree. He had stuck around when I had had given up on myself. It was something that happened more than once.

Although I agreed to meet the couple, my reluctance wasn't something I was going to hide. "Lead the way," I replied with a sarcastic smile.

He narrowed his eyes, but motioned for me to follow him.

I spotted the couple hovered closely together, whispering and pointing at a haggard, but smiling, Jane. They were probably judging her like they knew her – knew her struggles. Like they knew our struggles. I felt my lip curl in disgust with these strangers and with Banner for making me meet these nobodies.

"Rachel, Austen?" Banner called to them softly. They were startled out of their quiet judgment, but turned to look.

Gobsmacked. Absolutely gobsmacked.

I was losing it again. A hysterical giggle slipped through my lips before I could cover my mouth. My painting, what I imagined my beautiful Jane would have looked like if the world hadn't awarded her a shitty hand on a platter.

"Jane," I whispered, reaching my hand out to touch the reincarnation standing in front of me. I brought my arm back when I realized that this was just like my parents.

Rachel began crying. Turning to the man, she clutched his jacket and hid her face against his chest. Her muffled sobs could still be heard as if sirens were being sound all around me. Austen tried comforting her, but was making little headway as his own tears wouldn't be stifled.

"Did you know her?" I asked. I knew, though, but I needed an answer. I needed to know that I wasn't the only one who loved her and missed her and knew how wonderful she was. It didn't matter that she was an addict who easily sold the most intimate part of herself for her next hit. She was my best friend and the reason I was able to stand here today.

"That's our daughter," Austen confirmed.

"That's my savior," I countered. It wasn't a competition of how important of a role she played in our lives, but I needed them to know that she was beyond just a daughter.

"Is she here?" he asked as he looked over my shoulder.

"She saved me, but she couldn't save herself." I felt my knees get weak and the room begin to spin. Nothing was as overwhelming as Jane's mother's loud sob, though. Why was I feeling like I was Jane's murderer? Maybe I was. Maybe I should have tried harder when she was alive.

"Did she die alone," he bravely asked. Rachel's head popped up – her eyes had swollen so quickly.

"I stayed with her until she sent me away." I swallowed hard and wiped my tears aggressively, not giving a shit about make up or what I looked like to other. "She had AIDS," I choked out, ready for any blame or backlash.

"We know," Rachel answered, rendering my speechless. "She left shortly after finding out she was HIV positive." She took deep, steadying breaths. "We didn't handle the situation very well," she added which brought another round of tears from both parents.

"We still loved her," Austen said as if he needed to defend him and his wife. "We were just so shocked and having trouble coming to grips that our little girl, our Janey, had HIV. She was a drug addict living under our roof and we didn't even know it. We failed her."

"I failed her, too."

Sometime during this short encounter and impressive emotional display, we had earned ourselves a small gathering around the _Jane_ showcase who were probably wondering how these pieces rendered so much emotion.

Edward and Banner shared a look that I didn't miss and gently removed Jane's parents and me to a less populated area of the gallery.

"Are those for sale?" Rachel asked. My instinct was to quickly tell her that they weren't to be bought, just for show. But how was I supposed to deny Jane's mother of her only child?

"Those are not…" I hesitated, knowing what I had to do," but there's a fifth piece that I did not bring with me tonight. No one's seen it except Edward and me." I motioned to my boyfriend since no introductions were made. "It's not for sale either, but maybe it's more important for you to have it than me."

We continued to talk and make arrangements. I became uncomfortable with the amount of gratitude they were showing. It was unnecessary for someone like me. I was doing this for Jane. Some kind of atonement.

I found out it was complete serendipity that they came tonight. A family friend had some photos that were being showcased tonight as well. They were stopped in their tracks when they saw their only child gaunt and dirty on the street, but smiling tiredly. Banner approached them after watching them stare at the hanging art for an extended period of time. He made the connection quickly.

Jane's parents excused themselves for the night, emotionally drained from tonight's revelations. I hugged each of them tightly, feeling as if I was connected with Jane once more. I hugged Banner, also, for making me meet two people that I wanted to refuse.

Throughout the night I greeted patrons and answered _some_ questions that were asked about my work. If I deemed it too personal, I politely declined. _Jane_ gathered more interest than I thought it would. I was also shocked when a few people actually recognized my name from my past work. One person even confessed to owning one of my pieces.

Throughout the night I felt as if my emotions were tethered to some unknown force – forcing me to the brink only to pull me back when I was about to fall over. I was grateful to see the faces of Rose and Emmett, Alice and Jasper, and Carlisle and Esme, but then an overwhelming sadness would envelop me at random times when I thought of Rachel and Austen.

I was relieved when it was finally time to go home. I held Edward's hand the whole way home.

"Thank you for coming."

He lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles. "As if I'd be anywhere else tonight."

I let the silence sit upon us peacefully. My thought s strayed to different parts of the evening. All in all it was a successful event. Just one element was missing.

"This was the first time my parents weren't present for one of my shows," I told him, breaking the silence.

He squeezed my hand. "I'm sure they were there tonight," he reassured me.

He pulled into the garage and turned the car off, but didn't exit after unbuckling his seat belt. He turned on the overhead light and grabbed my hand.

"Did I ever tell you about the dream I had of them? Your parent?" he asked. His eyes looked at me cautiously. Stunned for the umpteenth time that night, I turned my whole body to face him.

"No."

"Yeah. It was the night before David told you about the show. It was kind of a sign." I looked at him confused. "In the dream they hated me," he chuckled. Why was that funny? "They told me that you did me a favor because the shirt was ugly anyway." It took me a moment to realize he was referring to the shirt I spilled coffee on years ago. I could smile at the memory now. "Anyway, they told me that I would never be good enough for you – that one day you were going to be the next Michelangelo. Their words," he laughed. "It's a pretty far-fetched comparison if you ask me." I pushed his shoulder, but laughed with him anyway. It sounded like something my parents would say.

"It was a weird dream, in general. I think it was a lot of flashes from _your_ life. They told me that there was going to be a sign. I woke up not knowing what it all meant, but then David told you about the show and you finally agreed. Maybe I'm wrong, but I took that as my sign. I didn't even know what I needed a sign _for _until it just hit me one day."

I was still confused as he reached into his inside jacket pocket.

"I was trying to find the right time tonight to do this, but it never felt right. It still doesn't feel exactly right, but waiting isn't an option. He held something tightly in his hand.

"While I didn't think it was an ugly shirt, the sacrifice was completely worth it to have you in my life. And maybe you won't be the next Michelangelo, but you're amazing in your own right." I leant forward to kiss him, my lone tear moistening our touching lips. He pulled away first.

"Bella. Marry me?" he asked as he simultaneously opened the box. A beautifully simple solitaire diamond perched proudly on the cushion.

How do you answer the man who helped you live again? The man that time and time again saved you from yourself? The one who took you in and helped you see your own worth when you were convinced it was gone. Despite what my parents said in his dream, I knew that it was me who would never be good enough for him. I answered the only way I could at the moment.

I grabbed his face suddenly, kissing him hard and longingly. I pulled away just long enough to answer if he wasn't clued in.

"Yes." I kissed him again as my tears showered our lips this time. I pulled away briefly once more. "Thank you for putting the pieces back together when I was broken."

**AN: Almost three years later and this story is finally finished. Damn! A few quick thanks. To those who helped me in some way, shape, and form. Thank you. I want to thank the readers, new and old, who reviewed (or not), alerted, and fav'd. I was horrible at responding but I read them all, most of the time more than once. Also, and maybe most importantly, I want to thank the readers who stuck with the story when others flounced because they couldn't handle of the content and believed that this story couldn't have a happy ending. I was VERY close to flouncing the story myself after a lot of hate I received.**

**Lastly, I want to apologize for the slow and inconsistent updates. I know at times it seemed that I wasn't going to finish the story, but it was always my intention to. And this is proof **** Again, thank you all so much.**


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